


Rise Up

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: The Captain and The Valkyrie Queen [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heavy Angst, Romance, Smut, Soulmates, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 10:58:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 147,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17042453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: Part two after Sledgehammer. Stuck in a world of darkness where your only solid ground is Steve, can you overcome the disabling effects of what the Hounds of Hydra have done to learn to control your returned Valkyrie nature, the memories of your past lives filling you with a glorious but nearly impossible destiny, or will what has been taken, the loss of your sight, in turn, have farther reaching consequences then you could have ever guessed?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Warnings: Smexy, fluff, a little angst
> 
> Song: Rise Up by Andra Day (It all started with a song, figured I might as well continue the tradition)

## Chapter One

* * *

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone as Matt pulled it from his ear, looking at it in disbelief though he couldn’t technically see it. It was simply how his mind chose to compute this incredible moment. He’d heard enough interviews to know just which Steve Rogers was on the other end of the line, but he was still having a hard time believing it.

“I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong person,” Matt tried to brush it off, returning the phone to his ear.

He and Elektra were finally together, away from all of the crazy which had happened in New York. They were happy and alone, though, truthfully, he had a twinge of guilt for not telling Foggy he’d made it through the destruction of Midland Circle alive, allowing his best friend to think he'd died.

“Matt Murdock, former lawyer and defender of Hell’s Kitchen known as Daredevil. We know who you are, Mr. Murdock. We’ve always known.”

Stiffening, Matt clenched his teeth together. “If you’ve always known, why did you never do anything to help us?”

“You were more than capable of helping yourself. Had you needed it, we would have been there.”

“Bullshit,” Elektra muttered.

“I’m inclined to agree with my associate on that, Captain.” Matt offered her a smile.

“Alright, we were a bit busy dealing with other matters, but now I need your help. Not the Avengers. Me. Personally.”

Matt frowned, listening to the deepening infections in Steve’s voice, the way the words jumped, how his tone dipped and ranged a few octaves. The emotion in it was heavy with worry, with hope, and with near desperation. “I don’t do that anymore,” he murmured.

“Mr. Murdock… Matt, I’m not asking for Daredevil’s help, I’m asking for yours.”

“You need a lawyer, Captain? Thought you and Stark had sorted all that Sokovian Accord, fugitive from the law stuff out.”

The sigh down the line was heavy. “I don’t need a lawyer. I need a man with extraordinary gifts to help teach a woman thrown into a world she’s terrified in.”

“Pardon?” Matt frowned for that made little sense.

“She’s was recently blinded, and her powers are… unique. The increased sensitivity of her other senses, well, she’s like you.”

“There are lots of people who can help a blind person adjust, Captain,” he hedged, not believing the man. He had deep feelings for the woman he spoke of. His words practically dripped with them.

“She’s a Valkyrie.”

“Excuse me?” Matt gasped.

“And an Avenger. I don’t need someone who can help her adjust to the dark, Matt. I need someone who can teach her to fight in it. Will you help me?”

He shifted his focus to Elektra. “I… I don’t…”

“We have no interest in your companion at this time. No interest in outing you, or informing anyone of your return from the dead should that be your choice, but there isn’t anyone else who can do what you do. I need _your_ help, Matt... _Please_.”

This was not the same man he’d heard on TV, the same strong, confident soldier at ease with the challenge set before him. This was a man who was seeking his last hope for someone he cared deeply about. 

Matt knew that feeling of hope and desperation far too well. He took a deep breath, knowing what this would likely cost him, sighed and said, “Alright.”

Anger fairly surged from Elektra.

******

Steve fidgeted nervously at your side, the tension radiating off him making you uncomfortable.

Standing in the bathroom, prepping for karaoke night, you were already on edge and worried about how it would go when the noise got intense.

Tony had decreed it was time for some team bonding and fun, stating karaoke night would be _fancy_ and anyone showing up in jeans would be Bucky’s sparring partner for a solid week.

Everyone had groaned as karaoke night was, let's just say... interesting. People sang as pairs or individuals or did shots to skip their turn.

It was a night you dreaded as you usually ended up drunk off your gourd, but with the return of your past, you had a trick or two up your sleeve you could use to have a little fun.

Steve's fidgeting, however, wasn't helping. He didn’t sing, simply drank his way through the night, the fairness of it all _not_ fair at all, but he only ever grinned and took another shot, so you couldn't figure out what his problem was.

“What the heck is going on with you?” you finally bit out, unable to take it any longer.

“Nothing, nothing,” he assured, running his hand down your arm. He touched you more now. He’d always been hands-on, but he was even more inclined to have his hands on you in some way, shape, or form.

Since the day you’d finally confessed all of the trouble you’d been having, he’d spent more time with you either working in your shared suite or having you join him in his office where you worked to learn grade one braille while he did his Captain thing.

He’d been researching a ridiculous amount of blind related technology, drafting Tony to his cause - not that Tony needed much encouragement, jumping onboard and running with it, adding FRIDAY to things like your phone and closet, so you weren’t doing things like putting on a red shirt and purple skirt again.

Natasha and Wanda had come to your aid that disastrous morning when they’d arrived to get you for breakfast, Steve having had an early meeting he couldn’t miss. They’d reorganized everything by colour, helping you pick and choose what you actually wore and what had merely been taking up space in your wardrobe. If you’d broken down and cried a little they hadn’t said anything, simply sat with you on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around you with their own tissues in hand, sisters through and through.

It was then you realized you truly weren’t alone. You’d known it, but you were suddenly faced with it in the most glaring way. It wasn’t just Steve but all of them, waiting in the wings, assisting when you needed the help and letting you find your way when you didn’t.

It was hard, it was scary, but you weren’t giving up.

These last few days, though, Steve had been… off. He wasn’t any less affectionate, just… off.

Often he and Bucky would disappear for an hour or two, usually while you were spending time with one of the others, trying to learn to tone down the noise. It wasn’t easy, but you’d found Vision and Bruce easier to be around, their intrinsic natures much more subdued than say Tony or Sam. Vision had a tendency to ask you questions, always inquisitive, curious about how you were adjusting, while Bruce simply worked around you, quietly mumbling, explaining what he was doing and talking to himself in a way which was melodious and calm.

The noise still built, all the sounds from the building surrounding you eventually crowding into your head, but it took a little longer every day.

Your sharp focus, however, only made Steve’s nerves that much more present, and like he just had, he brushed it off every time you asked.

Tonight, though, you weren’t letting him get away with it anymore. It had been a week of duck and dodge or distract, and you were done playing. “No, Steve. It’s something. Talk to me.” You were standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, having run a brush through your hair, adding a touch of lip-gloss to your mouth. Maybe it was weird, doing your makeup in the bathroom when you couldn’t see yourself, but it was a habit and where all your stuff remained.

Steve had wandered in to watch, playing with the lid of his aftershave, the scent growing stronger and weaker when he loosened and tightened the cap. It was different when it was on his skin, the scent mixing with his natural one to create a pleasing smell, warm and musky, sexy as hell, and the reason Garry had never been able to fool you. There was just no way of reproducing that scent. “It’s… a surprise, for later.”

“Surprise?” you paused mid-gloss to look his direction.

“Yeah.” He took the small wand from your fingers, finishing the gloss job himself.

Rubbing your lips together, you weren’t surprised when his hand grasped your chin, and his lips landed lightly on yours. Smiling, you shook your head. “Pink is so your colour, Cap.”

“That was the clear one, sweetheart.”

Sighing, you deflated a little. “Damn it.”

The drawer the girls had helped you organize opened and closed, the sink turned on then off, and a damp cloth pressed to your palm.

“Not hard to change it.”

“Still,” you murmured, taking the cloth to your lips, “I thought I’d got it right the first time.”

“Baby, I watched you walk in here, do your hair, open the drawer and choose a lip thing all without hesitating.” He cupped your cheek as he put the new tube in your hand. “I call that a win.”

A smile twitched your lips. “I guess it is.”

“Add that to the fact you matched your bra to your underwear and picked out one of the sexiest dresses I’ve ever seen you wear? Damn, darlin', I’m impressed as hell.”

A blush warmed your face when you ran your hand down the tight dress. It was a dark blue, nearly navy, covered in fancy black lace. You’d almost worn it to Tony’s last party but had chosen the one which had been the same colour as Steve’s stealth suit instead. “You like this one better than the last one?”

His hand followed the path yours had just taken. “Yeah,” he said, voice soft, dropping an octave.

The sound made you shiver and place the lip-gloss on the counter. Running a hand up his torso, feeling the small buttons of his shirt, you hooked your fingers at the back of his neck. “Why?”

A warm finger touched down on your collarbone, traced the edge of your dress, coming to a stop where it met at the apex of your breasts. “I like this neckline.”

The ‘V’ neck did leave a generous amount of cleavage on display. “Is that all?” you asked, a little breathless.

“And this.” His palm cupped your breast, slipped down, squeezed against your ribcage.

The waistline was high, defined with a black ribbon. The light grope set your heart racing, body warming, well and truly aroused. “Anything else?”

His other hand skimmed his fingertips up your thigh to play gently with the lace edge of the skirt. “This. The whole thing looks a bit like lingerie,” he murmured, maneuvering you around until your hips connected with the countertop.

“And if it was?” you asked, a whimper rising in your chest when his fingers began to inch your hem up your thigh.

The hand at your waist skated down, squeezed your ass, dropped to your thigh. He lifted you to the cold marble, pushing your skirt up your legs once you landed. “I’d think you were trying to seduce me, baby.”

Your belly shuddered, breasts aching as you spread your thighs, exposing your barely-there underwear. “Is it working?” The sound of a zipper being tugged down made you smile. “We’re going to be late, Captain.”

“I don’t care,” he groaned, his fingers sliding over your wet folds to tug your underwear to the side.

Gasping, you moaned in delight when he dragged you to the edge of the counter. “Me either.”

***

Karaoke night was in full swing when you walked in. Someone, you weren’t sure who was absolutely destroying a Taylor Swift song. You flinched in sympathy for those already gathered, but from the sound of it, they seemed to be having fun and making a mess of it on purpose.

“Steve, Dollface,” Bucky murmured, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Got to steal your guy for a sec.”

You nodded, another set of familiar steps coming closer. “All good, Buck.”

“I'll be right back, doll.” Steve squeezed your fingers.

“Hey, brat. How are you doing?” Clint asked, coming up on your side.

“Pretty good, feathers,” you grinned, reaching out for a hug. “That’s… ugh… an interesting take on Shake it Off.”

“It’s… something,” he said, leading you away from where Steve and Bucky remained. “Drink?”

“Yes, something strong and fruity.” You needed it if the current song was any indication on how the night was going to go.

He chuckled as he led you toward the bar.

***

Bucky grabbed Steve by the collar, dragging him out of the room. “You're late!” he growled.

“She was asking questions. I had to distract her somehow.” Steve shrugged, trying not to grin.

Bucky only rolled his eyes. “Guy finds his soulmate and turns into a lecher.”

“Hey!” Steve barked.

Chuckling, Bucky punched him lightly in the shoulder. “I'm just busting your chops, pal.”

“I know, jerk,” he grinned, pulling at his collar.

“Ya know, once you go through with this, they ain’t ever gonna let you sit out karaoke night again.”

“Worth it. She needs this, needs to know how we all feel. That no matter what, we’re all in this with her.”

Bucky dropped his fist down on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m with you, Steve.”

Slapping his hand down on Bucky’s shoulder, completing the circle, Steve blew out a heavy breath. “Til the end of the line, Buck.”

***

Apparently, it had been Smitty butchering the Taylor Swift song when you’d arrived, his brother heckling him something fierce. Snickering softly, you sipped your drink from your seat at the bar. “You getting up there tonight, feathers?”

“You know it, brat!” He clapped his hands together, excited as always.

While Clint didn’t have the greatest voice, he was an enthusiastic singer who always got the crowd going. The one time he and Natasha had performed _Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart_ everyone had screamed and cheered until they were nearly hoarse.

“Got something special planned?” you asked, smirking his direction as you sipped, the drink something frothy with ice and strawberries, the vodka layered beneath tingling on your tongue. Tension suddenly radiated from him, crazy, excited tension which had the hair standing up on your arms. “Clint?”

“Alright, alright,” Tony said through the mic, causing silence to descend on the rest of the group. “Barton, if you could please bring our girl forward.”

Clint’s hand on your arm startled you into squeaking, “Me?”

Tony chuckled. “Yes you, (Y/N), but not to sing. Seems someone, who was _late_ by the way, has a special treat lined up for you.”

You made your way forward on Clint’s arm to a seat he designated you to sit in. “You know I can’t see, right? Is there a reason I have to be front row center?”

“Just _sit_!” Tony huffed.

Patting the seat, you settled into the armless chair. “I’m sat, I’m sat,” you grumbled, tucking your feet into the opening beneath it.

“Then, without further ado, I give you the musical stylings of _Captain Steeeeven Rogers!_ ”

The room erupted in cheers, but all you could think was _huh?_

Steve didn’t sing. Not in public. He sang in the shower all the time because he knew you loved it. It amazed you, his voice and how good he was, but he was just not up to singing for everyone else, and you respected that.

“This song is for you, (Y/N),” Steve said, and you could hear the nerves in his voice.

A piano started, the metal of Bucky’s hand on the keys and the sound of the hammer striking the strings inside it made you gasp softly. This wasn’t some voice over, some recording on the machine of Tony’s. This was Steve, with the help of Bucky, doing something so entirely out of character no wonder he’d been nervous.

When he started to sing, you bit your lip to keep the tears at bay.

_You're broken down and tired_

_Of living life on a merry go round_

_And you can't find the fighter_

_But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out_

_And move mountains_

_We gonna walk it out_

_And move mountains_

_And I'll rise up_

_I'll rise like the day_

_I'll rise up_

_I'll rise unafraid_

_I'll rise up_

_And I'll do it a thousand times again_

_And I'll rise up_

_High like the waves_

_I'll rise up_

_In spite of the ache_

_I'll rise up_

_And I'll do it a thousand times again_

_For you_

_For you_

_For you_

_For you_

Breathing out, you twisted your hands in your lap. The room disappeared, all noise fading away. Not even the beating of so many hearts could drown out the rise and fall of Steve’s beautiful voice and the soft strains of the piano. The burn of tears grew with every word, the emotion behind them piercing your heart with no less accuracy than one of Clint’s arrows. You could see why he chose it, this song.

He was the strongest man you’d ever known. His bravery was uncontested. No matter the battle, no matter the fight, he would rise up, over and over and over. He would stand up every time he was knocked down. That was just who he was.

_When the silence isn't quiet_

_And it feels like it's getting hard to breathe_

_And I know you feel like dying_

_But I promise we'll take the world to its feet_

_And move mountains_

_We'll take it to its feet_

_And move mountains_

_And I'll rise up_

_I'll rise like the day_

_I'll rise up_

_I'll rise unafraid_

_I'll rise up_

_And I'll do it a thousand times again_

_For you_

_For you_

_For you_

_For you_

A sob broke from you when the tears would no longer be held back. Lifting your hand to your mouth, you startled when one came down on your shoulder. Clint’s hand, you were fairly certain, the man having not moved away. Then, a second landed on yours clenched in your lap.

Steve’s hand now as familiar as your own, interlacing your fingers. He breathed in, the sound low, level with your face, having crouched down in front of you, coming to you because you needed him like you knew he would. Like he always would.

You reached for him, his fingers caught yours, drew them to his lips where he kissed your palm. When he continued to sing, the piano softening with his voice, Bucky joined in, sending your tears flooding down your face.

_All we need, all we need is hope_

_And for that we have each other_

_And for that we have each other_

_We will rise_

_We will rise_

_We'll rise_

_We'll rise_

_I'll rise up_

_Rise like the day_

_I'll rise up_

_In spite of the ache_

_I will rise a thousand times again_

_And we'll rise up_

_Rise like the waves_

_We'll rise up_

_In spite of the ache_

_We'll rise up_

_And we'll do it a thousand times again_

_For you_

_For you_

_For you_

_For you_

Silence hung heavy around the room as you sat there, Steve holding your hands while you tried to get control of yourself.

“Baby,” he whispered, releasing your fingers to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to make you cry like this.”

“Oh god, Steve,” you choked out. Reaching for him, your arms went around his neck while falling from the seat to land in his lap where you tucked your face against his throat. “You tore open my heart and stitched it back up in the same song. What did you think would happen?”

You could feel him smile against your temple, his arms tight around you. “I love you, sweetheart, with everything I am. I just wanted you to know no matter what comes; I’m with you, _we_ are with you every step of the way. I’ll rise up, baby. I’ll rise up a _million_ times if that’s what it takes to get through this.”

Giving a jerky nod, you hiccupped a final sob, pulling back to smile at him. “Thank you,” you sighed, bringing your hand up to find his face, running your thumb over his lips to orient yourself before leaning in to kiss him gently.

“Well, shit. I’ve always thought that barbershop quartet comment was a joke,” you heard Natasha say from the doorway. “Damn! Cap can sing!”

“Should’a heard him back when he was a choir boy,” Bucky snickered. “Voice is a _lot_ deeper now, hey Steve?”

“Fuck you, Barnes,” Steve muttered under his breath.

With your forehead pressed to his, you laughed, joy filling your heart.

“What Cap said before, it goes for all of us, brat,” Clint said, his voice lowering as he crouched beside you, hand gentle on the top of your head.

“I got the message, feathers. Promise,” you smiled, wiping at your face. Maybe it was a good thing you hadn’t got the hang of mascara and eyeshadow just yet.

“That was rather impressive, Captain Rogers.”

The new speaker had a quiet voice, kind but strong. It was completely unfamiliar to you, causing you to frown Steve’s direction.

“This was part two of the surprise,” he murmured, helping you to your feet and leading you toward the voice.

Someone, you thought maybe Wanda, pressed a tissue into your palm which you used hastily to wipe your face.

“Let’s step out and let the others get back to karaoke night,” Steve encouraged, leading you out the doors, the steps indicating you’d made it back into the hall.

Once they were shut, you waited for Steve to tell you what was going on, though you could tell Natasha, Tony, and Bucky had joined you along with the stranger as you could smell the perfume and cologne of each.

“(Y/N), baby, this is Matt Murdock. He’s here to help.” Steve gripped your arm tightly, excitement practically radiating off him.

Holding out your hand before you, you said, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Murdock.”

“That’s not necessary, (Y/N). I’m as blind as you are,” he said, the kindness again present in his voice.

Stunned you muttered, “Really?”

He chuckled, something solid tapping the ground. “I have the cane to prove it.”

“Oh, sorry,” you blushed.

“It’s fine. Not as if you would have known.”

“So…” you frowned, bringing your hand to your midsection. “You’re here to teach me how to be blind?”

He shifted, barely. It surprised you how quiet he was, how soft his heart sounded compared to the loudness inherent in the others.

“You didn’t tell her?” he said, the question aimed at Steve.

“When I said we knew, I meant the four of us knew. It’s not common knowledge among the rest of the team, even the other Avengers, though we will likely have to explain things to the original team, so they know what’s up,” Steve said.

“I… don’t understand?” you murmured, clearly confused. “What’s going on, Steve?”

He turned you to face him, his hands coming up to cup your face. “You remember when I said I had a plan?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, heart beginning to beat a little harder.

“Matt, he was my plan.”

Inhaling sharply, you hardly dared hope. “No offence to Matt, but how is he to help me? He’s as blind as I am.” How were you to return to being a Valkyrie, an Avenger, with a blind instructor?

“Do you remember Daredevil?” Natasha asked.

Nodding, the name and person both quite familiar after all that had gone down in New York some time ago, you never in a million years would have expected the next sentence to come out of anyone’s mouth, let alone the blind guy’s.

“I’m Daredevil.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing
> 
> Song: Higher by Creed

## Chapter Two

* * *

Sitting at a table away from the others you twisted your fingers together in your lap. “I feel like a zoo exhibit. How ‘bout you?”

Chuckling softly, Matt muttered, “They do seem to be doing an awful lot of staring.”

After introductions all around, and a few moments of shuffling, you figured it would probably be best if you and Matt took a moment to talk, get to know one another a little bit before… whatever came next.

Returning to the common room where Clint was belting out Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus, Steve had led you to the farthest corner of the room with the least amount of chaos so you and Matt could talk. But you were feeling distinctly like the fish in the fishbowl, the eyes on you hard to miss.

“This is… weird,” you muttered, sighing.

“Maybe we should start with something easy. The Captain didn’t explain what happened, and Ms. Romanoff wasn’t exactly what I would call _chatty_ when she picked me up.”

You smiled at that. Nat wasn’t overly friendly with anyone she didn’t know well unless they were a target she was scamming, and - with the revelation of Matt’s other identity, one you were still having difficulty believing was real - you could understand Nat’s reluctance to allow him too close.

“That’s not exactly a simple answer either.” Slowly you began to explain about Garry, the Hounds, and all that had happened in the last few weeks. “So, they succeeded, sort of. I remember… everything, but the cost was,” you flicked a hand at your face, “my sight.”

He sat very quietly throughout the retelling, shocking you again with his stillness, with his calm.

“You’re telling the truth,” he murmured, almost as if surprised.

“Well… yeah.” The sound of him shifting had you frowning. “Matt?”

A soft sound, a chuckle which seemed somewhat strained filled your ears. “Christ… you really are a Valkyrie. He said you were, but I didn’t believe it.”

“I was born, originally, a rather long time ago, for sure,” you smiled, understanding this had to be hard. “Thor and Loki could confirm it for you if you want.”

“No, no, I believe you. Hearts don’t lie,” he said, patting your hand.

“Hearts?” you asked, confused.

“Heart rates, pulses. A person may be able to lie like a rug, with extremely good tonal control, but you can’t control your heart. It accelerates when someone lies. Even under duress, if a person is speaking the truth, their heart stays the same. If they lie…”

“It gets faster,” you murmured. “That’s really cool!” Lifting your hand, you rubbed at your temple.

“Headache?” he asked softly.

“From the noise,” you agreed, the sound becoming nearly unbearable. “You’re very quiet, Matt. It’s the rest I can’t…”

His hand took yours with an accuracy which startled you until you remembered… Daredevil.

“How much can you hear? How far?”

“All of it. Everything. Everywhere.” It was like having hundreds of people in your head demanding your attention.

“Focus on one heart,” he said, bringing your hand to his chest. “Find this one and block the rest out.”

“How, though?” You shook your head. “Yours is just… there, beneath all the others.”

“Concentrate. Hear every nuance, every pulse, every flutter, every beat. Focus on the rush of blood through the veins. Separate it from the other sounds until it’s all that fills your ears. Feel it through your fingertips, smell the rush of it as it warms my skin.”

Breathing out, you fought to focus, to slow everything down until his heart beat in your ears, his and one other. “Steve,” you whispered. All other sound ended, faded away into white noise but for the powerful beat of Steve’s heart, and the quieter one of Matt’s.

“Better,” he murmured, a smile in his voice. “That was good.”

“You can tell?”

“The tension in your shoulders is less. You’re not frowning like you were, and your breathing isn’t as shallow.”

“Wow,” you muttered, amazed.

He chuckled softly. “You’ll get there. Why did you say, Steve?”

“He’s the only heart I can’t block out. I always know where he is in the room, and our room is the only one not overwhelming to me, but I can’t keep hiding in there, or his office to drown out the world.”

He returned your hand to the table, patted it gently. “He’s very important to you, as you are to him.”

“He’s my _sjelevenn,_ my soulmate.” You smiled Steve’s direction, listening to the little jump in his heart when he noticed.

“You believe in soulmates?”

Turning back to Matt you shook your head. “It’s not a belief like most humans believe. It’s different for us, for the Valkyrjur. I met him in my first life. I named him, _Helgi_ , gave him his sword, married him, lost him far too soon and died shortly after that, heartbroken.”

“Sounds… almost unbelievable. If I hadn’t seen someone I love come back from the dead… I might be inclined to call you a liar.”

Nodding, you sighed softly. “It’s a bit like a fairy tale, I agree, but Steve and I have lived many lives. This was supposed to be my quiet life,” you chuckled wryly.

“With Captain America was meant to be _quiet_?” he snickered.

“Try serving in the halls of Valhalla. This,” you flicked your hand out, “is quiet. Warriors waiting for Ragnarok can be quite… rowdy.”

“I can’t even imagine.” The smile was back, you could hear it easily. “But why am I here. Why is fighting so important. That’s what your Captain told me. He didn’t need someone who could help you adjust to the dark, but someone who could teach you to fight in it.”

Running your hand over the tabletop, feeling the tiny grains in the wood, you again focused on Steve and the sound of his heart across the room. “Because he’s mine and I’m his. Valkyrjur fight. We clean the fields of the worthy dead. We are warriors. Since the moment we met in our first life he has held my heart. He died when I was not there to keep him safe. In my second life it happened again, history repeated itself. Every life since, I have guarded my _sjelevenn_ with the ferocity of my race, it was my vow and became my destiny. To send him out alone,” you turned your eyes back toward Matt, “would be a slow death to my soul.”

“No pressure,” he muttered.

“None whatsoever,” you smiled. “I’m not starting from scratch, Matt. I’m able. The years of agent training are nothing compared to my time as the leader of the Valkyrjur. I can fight. I just… can’t do it like this.”

His hand came down next to yours on the table. “There’s one thing you need to learn before we get started.”

“What’s that?”

“Seeing is overrated. I can help you, (Y/N). It’s not going to be easy. Stick, my mentor, he found me as a kid. It was… not easy, but easier for me to unlearn the dependency on my eyes.”

“Little hard to rely on something that’s not there anymore.”

“Just because they don’t work, doesn’t mean your brain won’t try to use them. It’s had how many years of sight? We need to train you as if you could never see, to begin with. Your hearing, your sense of smell, touch, taste, you have to train yourself to use those first because that split second when your brain tries to seek an answer from your eyes it won’t get, can have a bullet winding up plowing through your body.”

Nodding slowly, you shoved at the hair falling over your face. “I get it, I do.”

“Eventually, you can build just as detailed pictures of the world around you without your eyes as you did with them. You can _see_ without seeing.”

“Then why the cane?”

“What kind of secret identity would I have if I didn’t use it?” he laughed softly.

Chuckling, you had to agree with him. “Blind lawyer turned Daredevil? Yeah, that’s a bit of a stretch. Cane makes for good cover.”

“That it does,” he agreed. “Plus, people are inclined to let their guard down around a guy who can’t _see_ them.”

“Stand in the lobby of a building and listen to what’s going on twenty or thirty floors above you. Nice.” If you could learn to control all these new senses, you would be even _more_ of a benefit to the team, a thought which really excited you.

“How far?” he gulped.

“That’s just a rough guess. I mean, the living quarters are on the north side of the building for us and logistics is on the south, that’s roughly twenty-six stories if you laid the building down.”

“The length of the entire building? You can hear the length of the _entire_ building?”

“Yes.” This time when he shifted it was a restless sound, hand through hair, click of something metallic on wood - glasses maybe -  before skin on skin indicated he was running his hand over his face.

“No wonder you have a headache.”

“Is that… bad?” you asked, suddenly feeling uncertain.

“No, no. Just… you’re more powerful than I’d thought. I can get… ten floors, fifteen if I stretch, or all of Hell’s Kitchen if I’m outside sitting on a rooftop. You’d probably be able to hear all of New York if you tried. Shit…” he hissed, again the sound of hand through hair registered.

His hand came down beside yours, and you lightly touched the back of it. “Matt… if this is too much…”

“No.” His fingers closed around yours. “No. I want to help you, (Y/N). I know I can. You’re just… not what I expected.”

“Well, you’re not what I expected either when Steve said he had a plan,” you chuckled.

“ _Lillesøster_ , have you moved on from your _sjelevenn_ to another?” came the dry voice of Loki, causing Matt to stiffen in surprise when he appeared out of thin air.

“ _Ugagn,_ did you come to apologize for distressing my _sjelevenn_?” you snarled, turning your face his way.

“Me?” he asked innocently.

“Yes, you, you big pain in the ass! You knew who he was to me and you let him think he wasn’t!” Getting to your feet, you thumped your fist on his leather-clad chest. “I’m this close to kicking your ass, Loki!”

“Darling,” he purred, capturing your fist. “You are at a disadvantage, or I would let you try.”

“Give her time,” Matt said.

“And just _who_ are you, mortal?” Loki sneered, earning himself a second fist to his chest from you.

“Be nice! He’s here to help.”

Angry stomping could be heard coming toward you, the whir of a metal arm and Loki jerked away.

“Where is he?” Bucky growled, hand sliding down your arm as he walked past, going after Loki.

“Now, Sergeant Barnes, is that any way to behave around a guest?” Loki asked.

“You ain’t no _guest_. You’re a worm that needs to bring back the little pissant you stole so the _rest_ of us get a turn beatin’ on him!” Bucky snapped.

“I would love to, Sergeant, but you see, he’s rather… tied up at the moment.”

You could hear the glee in his voice. “Caverns of Svelic?”

“Pit of Alemik.”

You flinched. “Oh, that’s cruel.”

“It was better than the Sea of Klank,” Thor chuckled, his steps coming up behind you, hand ruffling your hair.

“Loki, no!” you gasped.

“Thor wouldn’t let me,” he pouted.

“Dollface?” Bucky asked, clearly confused.

Shaking your head, you motioned toward the table behind you. “Thor, Loki, this is Matt. He’s here to help.”

“Matthew Murdock,” he said, arriving at your side.

“You are blind as well,” Thor murmured.

“How observant of you, brother.”

You could almost hear Loki roll his eyes. No, you actually could hear Loki roll his eyes. It made you snicker and bite your lip. “This big brute,” you slapped your hand to Thor’s stomach, making him grunt, “is the King of Asgard.”

“And you just punched him in the stomach,” Thor whined.

“Oh, please. Don’t be such a baby,” you scoffed.

“Yes, brother. Don’t be so dramatic,” Loki teased.

“Says the drama queen of a trickster god,” you muttered, lifting your chin when he growled at you.

“ _Lillesøster_ , you are lucky to be at a disadvantage, or I would take exception to such a remark,” Loki sniffed, “and after I went to all the trouble of bringing you a gift.”

“Presents?” you grinned. Holding out your hands, you opened and closed your fingers. “Gimme!”

“So greedy,” Loki chuckled, placing the gift in your palms.

The cool metal made you gasp. “Oh! Oh, Loki.”

“I told you I would keep it.”

The metal guard slipped over your first and second finger, over the back of your hand, and closed around your wrist with ease. The partial gauntlet was heavy, but the weight was like a piece you hadn’t realized was missing had been returned to you.

Closing your eyes, you breathed out a sigh, curling the fist into your chest as a smile played with your lips. “Thank you.”

“Whatcha got there, doll?” Bucky asked.

“It was a present from my mother. The Valkyrie equivalent of jewellery.” The memory of that day washed over you.

Standing in the knee-high grass on the Plains of the Valkyrjur, its blue-green blades waving in the breeze while the purple flowers, small and delicate in a myriad of blooms, sprinkled the air with their heady fragrance. The white of your gown had shone as brightly as the clouds above, the sun reflecting off the guards upon your arms, and the helm upon your head.

You’d been young, only fifteen summers, but already you were well on your way to assuming her place as Leader of the Valkyrjur. You had the drive, as you had the gift. That day, your mother had taken you with her to walk the plains and visit with the pegasi who grazed upon them in the valley between the mountains.

She was as beautiful as she was proud, and as kind as she was wise, the very best leader they’d ever had. “Sváfa, one day you will take my place and when that time comes, wear this in memory of me.” Removing the handguard intricately worked in gleaming silver, she’d pressed it into your palm. “Wear it in pride as the Valkyrie you shall become will be far greater than I could have ever dreamed.”

You shook off the memory. “Her name was Tove. She died a few weeks later, a battle gone wrong. They brought me her cloak,” you turned away as tears filled your eyes only to find yourself in Thor’s embrace.

“We did not mean to upset you, _bråkmaker,_ ” he murmured against your hair.

“Just… the night’s been a little emotional already,” you sighed, pressing your forehead to his chest, thankful he was wearing regular clothing, not his armour.

He patted your back. “Ah, then you need part two of your surprise.”

Pulling away, you frowned. “Part two?”

Something sloshed behind you, and you jerked your head around. “No!”

“Yes!” Loki laughed.

“NO! You did _not_ break into the temple!”

“Darling, how you besmirch my character! I’m hurt! Besides…. Thor did it,” Loki said.

“You did not!” you bellowed at Thor.

“Mayhaps I did, or perhaps I simply charmed a pretty maid into giving me a bottle,” he teased.

Smacking his chest, you scolded, “You better not have stolen it.”

“Oi! Dollface!” Bucky grumbled, “What the fuck?”

A blush coloured your cheeks. “Oh man, Buck! I’m so sorry! And Matt! You’re probably so lost!”

“A little. But as the sergeant is equally confused, I feel less alone,” he chuckled softly.

“Why don’t we gather the team and head for the lounge. I’d like to know what a Pit of Alemik is,” Bucky stated, already heading away by the sound of his retreating voice.

“He’s really annoyed with you both,” you snickered, nudging Thor with your elbow.

“Hm,” Thor shrugged. “There is no one better qualified for dealing with Garry then Loki. And nowhere better than Asgard for containing his powers.”

You nodded toward the others. “You’ll need to convince them of that.” Reaching out, you found Matt’s arm, tucking your fingers in his elbow when he offered it. “Shall we?”

“So, we are to be the blind leading the blind?” Matt chuckled softly.

Laughing, you nodded. “I figured I could give direction, and you can keep me from running into things.”

“I think we can accomplish that,” he snickered, nudging you to head toward the others.

***

You were sitting against Steve’s side, surrounded by the original team having left the newbies to their caterwauling with the other members of staff who'd decided to join in on karaoke night fun, glass in hand, waiting for the others to receive theirs. Unlike Thor’s usual fair, the drink he brought which only Steve and Bucky had ever been allowed to indulge in, _this_ was something reserved for the Halls of Valhalla, but wouldn’t rot the innards of regular mortals.

Steve’s fingers were linked with yours, with the ones now clad in metal, his thumb rubbing slowly over the links and hinges as he traced his way up the back of your hand to your wrist. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

Tilting your head onto his shoulder, you curled your fingers into his hand, letting the sharp talons dig in gently. “Deadly.”

“Like you,” he whispered against your hair with a soft chuckle.

“So, (Y/N), what exactly am I drinking,” Tony asked.

“This is Valkyrie fruit wine. It’s reserved for only the bravest of warriors, those for whom the most songs are sung.” You snickered when you murmured, “Loki used to steal it from the temple.”

“Once! I pilfered a bottle _once_ as a boy! And considering both you and Thor partook with me, you are just as guilty as I am,” he huffed, but there was little anger in the words. “Damn we got drunk.”

Laughing, you held up your glass, “To friends old and new, and newly remembered. _Skål_!”

“ _Skål_!” Thor bellowed, making you giggle.

Bringing the small cup to your lips, more a port than a wine, the scent of the drink evoked a memory of the deep red liquid. Drinking the wine down, you settled back against Steve as the warmth rippled through your veins like liquid fire. The buzz came high and fast, loosening your limbs, making you feel a little floaty without being fuzzy headed.

“Wow,” Wanda sighed, smile in her voice. “That is… amazing.”

“Shit,” Sam chuckled. “Why have we never had this before?”

“Too hard to get,” Thor said. “I now owe the current Leader of the Valkyrjur a _Smedlheim_ cloak.”

“Oh, Thor. You didn’t,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“What’s a _Smedlheim_?” Steve asked.

“Think tiger the size of an elephant but with antlers like an elk,” you explained, glaring Thor’s general direction. “I thought you said you charmed a _maid_ into giving you the bottle?”

“I did. She just so happened to be the Valkyrjur _Fullmakt_.”

“ _Fullmakt_?” Tony asked.

“The proxy. She who steps into the leadership role when the Queen isn’t available.” You could hear the smirk in Loki’s voice.

“Where is the Queen?” asked Vision.

There was silence as you sat and played with your glass, feeling more and more eyes turn your way.

“You?” whispered Steve, tension growing in the lines of his body.

“Not in this life,” you muttered, silently vowing to kick Loki’s ass twice as hard once you were able.

“Sváfa,” Thor murmured.

“Shut your pie hole you overgrown Asgardian!” you snarled. “I think you’ve been more than _chatty_ enough for one night.”

“Darling-”

“So help me, Loki!” you wailed.

“You’re the Queen of the Valkyrie?” Steve reiterated. “The _Queen_? Did we not _just_ talk about secrets, doll face?” He was practically seething.

Setting your glass on the table, you caught the edge and sent it smashing to the floor. “Damn it!” Shoving to your feet, you clenched your fists. “It’s irrelevant! I’m not the Queen. Not in this life! The two of you bringing it up has only caused more trouble. I have enough of that without you compounding it!” Turning on your heel, you stepped over the glass, around Steve’s legs, and stomped for the door.

Leaping up, Steve was hot on your heels.

***

“Huh,” Matt said, a smile playing with his lips.

“What?” Natasha, propped on the couch arm next to Clint asked.

“She walked out all on her own. Even missed the chair sticking out.” Matt nodded, his smile breaking free.

“Huh, so she did,” Clint smirked. “She’s always been one to run on her emotions. You rile her up during a mission; she’s liable to clear a room with extreme prejudice.”

“It was the Valkyrie coming through,” Thor explained.

“They are a hot-tempered breed,” Loki agreed.

“Feisty,” Tony chuckled. “She’s always been feisty.”

“Let Steve take the brunt of her temper,” Bucky said, “I want to know about this Pit of whatcha ma-call-it you’ve got Garry stashed in.”

“Garry,” growled a distinctly deep voice.

Everyone looked sharply at Bruce.

“What?” the man grumbled. “I wanna know just as much as the big guy.”

Loki looked around at those gathered and smiled, wicked and sharp. “Let me tell you of the despair-filled Pit of Alemik.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing
> 
> Song: How Long Will I Love You by Ellie Goulding

## Chapter Three

* * *

She stomped away, heading toward the living quarters with an astonishing amount of accuracy, leaving Steve trailing in her wake. The words pouring from her mouth were not ones he could understand, but the wild gesturing as she stalked away gave him a general idea of how upset she was.

Still, the language in her sweet voice tightened a certain portion of his anatomy he wasn’t currently willing to acknowledge. As it was, he was caught between three emotions. Anger, amusement, and amazement all vying for first place. So far, anger was losing.

Was he mad? Damn right. They’d _just_ got past this whole _keeping things from him_ bullshit. To find out she wasn’t merely a Valkyrie, but _the_ Valkyrie had him stumbling somewhere between pissed off and proud.

She was a beautiful and deadly fighter, full of cunning and talent; he’d always thought so. So many things about her were clicking into place, making more sense, tumbling like the mechanisms of a lock to complete the mystery which was (Y/N).

She’d once said she wasn’t anything special, that winding up on the Avengers team had been mostly a fluke, but even if it had been fate or destiny which had brought her to them, it was her skill that had them all choosing to keep her. Her fiery nature and fighting spirit hadn’t hurt none either.

The amazement and amusement blended together. Her fit of pique was entertaining, and even though he wasn’t sure what she was going on about, every so often she slipped back into English, and the words _loud-mouthed Asgardians_ or _enormous oafs_ peeled forth in a tight snarl.

He’d never seen anyone but Thor go head to head with Loki and have the Asgardian back down, but, clearly, there was some deep history there, especially on the part of the self-proclaimed god. He _looked_ at (Y/N) with a longing Steve remembered all too well. It was a look of hope, one that appeared when someone dear to you came back; like Bucky had for him.

Loki _loved_ (Y/N), as did Thor, but Loki had been nearly feral when he’d come out of the Hound’s facility to find her unconscious and bleeding in his arms. Thor had had to contain him physically, and only the reassurance of Bruce and FRIDAY were able to calm him down. After, Loki had prowled the compound like the wolf which had taken out a good chunk of the Hound’s militia until (Y/N) had woken and, well, snarled at them both.

A small smile curled his lips. It was such a (Y/N) thing to do.

She stalked, literally _stormed_ down the hall, hips swaying, hands swinging wildly. If she’d been a cat, her tail would have been lashing violently behind her.

The amazement came from the fact it appeared she’d forgotten, as strange as that sounded, she couldn’t see. It was as if she was running entirely on instinct, a wild thing heading for the safety of her lair. She made the turns when she needed to, moved around things like garbage cans, chairs, _people_ , as if she genuinely could _see_. It was incredible to watch, right up until the moment she stopped dead in the hallway before their door.

Her entire body stiffened, fear pouring off her in a sudden rush as her breath hitched and her hands shook. “Steve!”

“Right here,” he said, gathering her to him from behind. “I’m right here.”

“I don’t… how did I get… _where the hell am I_?” she asked as she clung to his arms.

“Where were you trying to go?” he asked, holding tight to her shaking form.

“Our... room.”

Releasing her, he took a step back. “Turn to the right and step forward. Reach for the doorknob.”

She did so slowly, her metal encased fingers scrabbling on the frame. Lifting her left hand, she laid it against the flat of the door, then leaned her forehead on it. “How?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but it was _damn_ impressive.”

***

He crowded you into the door, his big, warm body a safety blanket you craved at regular intervals. Again his arms curled around your waist as the fear slowly subsided.

You’d been so _angry_ at Thor and Loki you hadn’t even thought about what you were doing,  wanting to get away from all the people staring at you like you were now even _more_ of a freak than you had been. It was like a beacon had gone off in your head, a direction appearing as if by magic.

Anger had ripped through you with such strength it was almost as if the entire world had lit on fire. You could smell everything, feel the change in the air when you neared an object, the sound of your steps had seemed to echo back to you off the walls. It had been… _freeing_.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, when the anger at the two Asgardian dumbasses had faded, so had the world back into darkness and you’d been lost. The fear had poured in so fast it had stolen your breath until the sound of Steve’s heart registered in your ears.

“You gonna open the door?” he asked.

Turning the handle, you pushed it inward feeling very disoriented and stumbled toward the couch where you caught your hip on the arm, managing to tumble over it, falling face first into the cushions. A yelp left your lips when you tried to catch yourself only to miss the seat, one hand going straight to the floor, sending you rolling off the edge of the sofa, and landing back first on the carpet. The sharp _crack_ which accompanied your less than graceful swan dive was the sound of your head connecting with the coffee table.

Groaning, you grabbed for your skull. “Shit!”

“Jeez, (Y/N)!” Steve’s hands slipped beneath your arms, lifting you with an effortlessness which amazed you even as your head throbbed wickedly. “Let me see. Did you crack your skull open?”

He set your butt gently on the sofa. “I can’t smell blood,” you assured him. “But _fuck_ that hurt like a wicked bitch!”

“What does a wicked bitch feel like exactly?” he asked, the chuckle in his voice muffled but present.

“I could punch you in the nuts, Rogers if you’re _really_ interested,” you grumbled.

“I’ll take a pass, doll.” His hands in your hair were careful before he sat down beside you. “Got a good smack, but the swelling is minimal.”

You rubbed at the goose egg with a sigh, the throbbing already less than it had been.

“So,” he said, and you could feel his eyes boring into the side of your face, “we gonna talk about this… _your majesty_?”

The snarl which ripped from your lips caused him to jump at the viciousness. “Call me that again, and you’ll be finding another bed tonight, _Rogers_.” You pointed a deadly sharp talon his direction. “And I didn’t _lie_ or keep a secret from you. I’m not the Queen. Not in this life.”

“You keep saying that. Not in this life, but you were, weren’t you?”

There was no heat in his voice, no accusation, just curiosity and your anger deflated. “I was, every Valkyrie life before this one.”

“How does that work?”

Sighing, you slumped against the sofa and closed your eyes. “Tove, my mother when I was Sváfa, she was the Queen of the Valkyrjur. Eylimi was my father, King of our land. They went into battle together, fought side by side, right up till the day of her death. Being Queen, it’s not necessarily a hereditary thing like on earth. I wasn’t guaranteed to be Queen. I fought for the position and won, defeated the then _Fullmakt_. I became Queen when I was twenty summers, five years after she’d died.”

He shifted closer, his arm going behind your shoulders, lifting you, so you were cradled between his thighs, leaning back against his chest. “I heard you tell Bucky about this.” His fingers traced the partial gauntlet.

Resting back on his shoulder, you smiled. “Were you eavesdropping, Captain?”

“Maybe. You and Matt seemed to be hitting it off and then Loki showed up. I was curious, but Buck beat me to the draw and headed for Loki. I… didn’t want to step on your toes.”

The fluctuation in his heart when he said Matt had your brow arching. “You don’t have to worry about Matt, Steve. You don’t have to worry about anyone. I see no one but you.”

“He held your hand… twice.”

Chuckling, you wiggled around until you could wrap your arms around his neck. “Were you jealous?”

“No!” he scoffed.

You skated your talons lightly up his neck causing him to quiver against you. “Really?”

“Maybe…” he sighed. “Little,” he muttered.

“You, Steven Rogers are my one true love, my _sjelevenn_. You might not remember what that means, but I do.”

“Maybe you should explain it to me.” His hands stroked gently up and down your spine.

“It means my heart, my soul, and my body belong to you and only you, from now until the end of all things.”

He kissed your forehead softly. “That’s good, doll face, cause I ain’t letting you go. Not ever.”

Sighing happily, you wiggled around until you were back in your previous position, a much more comfortable one, where he threaded your fingers together, playing with your hands.

“Does it bug you I don’t remember?” he asked quietly after a few minutes of silence.

“You never remember.”

“What?” he gasped softly. “But you do?”

“Its how it works. _Sjelevenn_ , it’s a Valkyrjur thing, unique to us and incredibly rare. When I’m reborn as a Valkyrie, I grow, I learn, and when I come of age, I’m taken to the temple where under the guidance of the high priestess I’m guided through my past lives, my Valkyrie lives. I remember everything and seek you out.”

“Okay, okay… but… how are you still Queen?”

You inhaled deeply of his scent. “I’ve never been defeated before my natural death by another Valkyrie.”

“You’re that good?”

“I’m the best.” You couldn’t help the cocky smirk. “I’m not the same girl you knew, Steve and once I learn to deal with this,” you waved at your face, “I’ll prove it.”

“But if your mother died and she was Queen, wouldn’t she be Queen again once she was reborn? If she wasn’t defeated?”

You turned to look his direction and placed your hand on his heart. You revelled in the warmth of his skin through his button-down shirt. “Steve… she wasn’t _sjelevenn._ When she died… she died. There is but a handful of us who are _sjelevenn_. Most Valkyrjur live a normal, though longer than human, single life. Even if a soul is reborn, it's not known unless _they_ find their _sjelevenn_ , and only their lives from that moment on can be remembered.”

“But what's the point? Why this constant… rebirth?”

It was a question you had asked on many occasion. Many times in many lives you had pondered the same thing. “When I asked the high priestess, she said it is because the pairs are meant for great things.  We are world changers, world savers; we are _needed_ because together we are stronger than any evil.” You gently cupped his cheek, thumb stroking over the bone. “Even in these lives, quiet lives in which we live as mortals, we have done some grand things, Steven.”

“Like what?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I know you've seen the file. Nat showed, well, read it to me. There are a few historic names on that list.”

“You seriously expect me to believe you were Abigail Smith, eventually Adams?” A small rumble of laughter chuckled from him. “That I was the second President of the United States? John Quincy Adams. I look nothing like him.”

“No. No, you don't. But in these mortal lives, we usually don't. It keeps us safe. But this life, this strange life, you look so much like Helgi....” Was it a strange twist of fate? Or was it some preordained destiny which had him appearing so? You didn't have the answers to that, and you weren't sure you ever would.

“But _President_?” 

He sounded so unbelieving you dug deep in your memory. "I look back to the early days of our acquaintance; and friendship, as to the days of love and innocence; and with an indescribable pleasure I have seen near a score of years roll over our heads, with an affection heightened and improved by time - nor have the dreary years of absence in the smallest degree effaced from my mind the image of the dear untitled man to whom I gave my heart.” The hard thump of his heart against your hand made you smile. “I wrote those words to you, and even though our letters are ones now treasured by the nation, I remember every word, every line, every emotion I felt when yours came to me.”

“Baby,” he sighed almost reverently before tugging you down to his chest where he held you tight. “I don't remember… but…”

“Your soul knows. You can feel the truth in my words. It's why we come together life after life. Valkyrie or mortal, on Asgard or Earth, we _belong_ together. Every time I found you as a Valkyrie,” you closed your eyes to see it all so clearly, “you would look up, our eyes would meet, and you would smile… oh!” you gasped when the realization dawned. “Oh god, Steve! It was the same smile, the one when Nat introduced us.” You hadn't even realized it till now. “Soft, but still knowing. You knew what it meant every time I appeared.”

His hand delved into your hair, pulled gently to tip your chin up. “Do you know what I thought when I shook your hand that day?”

You shook your head slowly against the hold of his fingers.

“There she is. It shocked the hell outta me. I couldn't explain it, but yeah, there she is.”

“Stevie,” you whispered, heart tumbling over.

“ _Min vakre skjoldpike,”_ he murmured against your lips, pressing the softest kiss to your mouth.

… _my beautiful shield maiden._

You made to shift closer only to have him tighten his arms around you. “ _Vennligst min kjære kriger._ ”

“Damn, sweetheart. You know what that does to me.” His hands stroked down your spine to clench and knead your ass. “Translation?”

“Please, my beloved warrior,” you breathed against his mouth.

“Soon, baby, soon. But I've still got questions.”

An irate hum left your lips. “Ask them fast, _Captain_.” You dragged your talons lightly down until you caught on the first button at the base of his throat.

“Why can't you be Queen in this life?”

You reared back only to come up against the solid wall of his arms, shocked that that was his question. “I can’t. I'm not supposed to be Queen. Even if I tried, I can't protect my title like this.”

“So you lose it. You could get it back in the next life.”

Shaking your head, you sliced the button from his shirt. “It doesn't work that way. If I lose my throne, it's gone. Valkyrie fight under the principle that a Queen never loses. It is victory… or death.”

His hand immediately locked around your upper arms. “What!?”

“Victory or death, Steven. If one of them were to find out about my disability…”

“They would challenge you for your place, and kill you to take it!?” he asked horrified.

Nodding slowly, you looked down and away, even though you couldn't see him. “I'm not the Queen. Not in this life. I can't be.”

His gentle hands cupped your face. “Okay. We’ll keep this under wraps. No one but our team knows, and if we explain it to them, it won't spread. Will Thor and Loki keep your return a secret?”

“If they know what's good for them,” you grumbled, plucking another button from his shirt.

“Three more questions,” he said, grabbing for your hands.

“Ask them swiftly, Rogers!” you huffed, wiggling your fingers free to stroke his newly bared flesh with your left hand.

“What are the Caverns of Svelic?”

“I told you about the places on Asgard only Loki dared go. That's one. It's where his… _lair_ , for lack of a better term, resides. It's a myriad of tunnels, dead ends, pits, fissures, and cave-ins which could easily have you lost should you not know the way. They were discovered by Svelic who mapped them, then proceeded to lose the map. Old codger.” You proceeded to slice another button from his shirt.

“Pit of Alemik?”

“It’s a pit — dark, dank, full of slime slugs. Harmless really, but their excrement causes one to hallucinate if left too long on their skin. It's not going to kill you, but it's also not fun. If Loki put Garry in the pit, he'll be chained to the wall, likely in Alemik’s hole, a pit within the pit containing no light where the slugs will be attracted to his warmth. They'll crawl on him, causing him to likely see things until the toxin works its way out of his system. Add to the fact something is sliding its way over your skin?” You shuddered in distaste at even the thought, slicing the last button free, sending it pinging away to bounce on the carpet.

“Sea of Klank?” he asked, breathing fast and ragged.

“Lava fields. They call it a sea because the lava swells in waves. It's so hot it never forms a crust, allowing the lava to move and flow like the ocean.” Wrenching his shirt open, you pressed your palms to his chest with a soft sigh. “Enough talking.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, voice deep and filled with arousal. Getting to his feet, he took you swiftly to the bed, drawing the zipper down on the back of your dress in the same move.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, fighting, angst
> 
> Song: Game of Survival by Ruelle

## Chapter Four

* * *

The original team had, again, gathered off on their own away from the compound within the bunker (Y/N) had been stashed in during her training exercise with Garry so many weeks ago. This time, however, it was not a training exercise which had them all milling about, but a demonstration, one a few of the team had decided to insist on, and one Matt had been, if not eager to be involved in, at least highly agreeable to.

Steve watched the man known as Daredevil from his stance beside his girl; arms crossed over his chest while Bucky warmed up a few feet away. He wasn’t quite sure what Matt was doing, but he was very still, his chest barely rising and falling.

Black cargo pants, combat boots, a fitted long sleeve t-shirt, and wrapped knuckles completed the look, that was until he reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a skull cap he tugged down over his eyes.

Everything about him seemed to change before Steve’s eyes. The man went from quiet, blind lawyer, too, well, masked vigilante. His shoulders rolled forward, the clothing he was in allowing one to see the mass of muscle he carried in his thighs and back, where the slightly frumpy suit had not.

Striding across the floor, Matt made his way to (Y/N)’s side without a misstep, pulling a second piece of cloth from his pocket. “Captain, if you would.”

The blindfold was blue, a piece from some scarf. “If I would what?”

“(Y/N) needs to unlearn the dependency on her eyes. While it seems… unnecessary, the physical reminder often is all the brain needs to know the eyes do not work. The touch of the blindfold will have her seeking hearing, scent, and feel, rather than the knee-jerk reaction of her eyes.

“It’s okay, Steve,” she insisted.

Moving to place the blindfold, Steve bit back the frown when Matt took her hands.

“Touch is important in our world, Captain. I know it can be disconcerting, but it is necessary,” Matt said softly, keeping his voice from carrying.

“You’ll have to excuse my protective instincts,” Steve murmured, doing the same.

“Steve… _sjelevenn,”_ she said, reaching up to touch his hand where it rested on the ties of the blindfold.

“ _Min vakre skjoldpike._ ” He kissed the fingers touching his but didn’t take his eyes off Matt.

A smirk twitched his lips before the man in the mask returned his attention to (Y/N). “Listen hard, focus, and pay close attention. There will be a quiz later,” he chuckled.

“Ahh man,” she huffed. “Thought I was done with school.”

“One never truly stops learning. Only changes teachers,” Vision murmured, wandering closer.

“Or becomes the teacher,” Matt said, tilting his head toward Vision.

“When the student becomes the master,” Vision agreed.

“A philosopher.” Smiling Matt nodded his head.

“I would say more of an avid reader than a philosopher, but then I am only a few years old. Perhaps…. when I grow up,” Vision smiled.

“Nice one!” (Y/N) chuckled, giving a thumbs up.

“I believe my ability to _make a joke_ is improving.” Seeming pleased with himself, Vision wandered off.

“That was a joke?” Matt mumbled.

“Should have heard him when he first started,” she snickered softly.

“We doing this or what?” Bucky called out, having accepted the position of opponent for this _spar_.

From the small of his back, Matt pulled a silver and red stick, one reminiscent of his folded up cane, but this one was thicker, heavier, and made of metal. “On your say, Sergeant.”

Bucky nodded. “Let’s go.” Striding into the center of the ample open space where mats had been laid out to protect the two combatants, he windmilled the metal arm to get everything loosened up.

Glancing to Matt, Steve murmured, “Watch out for the arm.”

“I will keep it in mind, Captain.” Nodding, Matt headed for the center of the makeshift ring where he settled into a relaxed stance, body turned just slightly, feet wide, knees bent, hands loose. “When you’re read-”

Bucky didn’t give him a chance, charging in and swinging for Matt’s head.

Leaning back, Matt avoided the fist with an easy which appeared to surprise Buck for all of a second before the metal-armed super soldier readjusted and went after him with a ferocity that had Steve flashing back to the battle he’d once fought with the Winter Soldier. Bucky wasn’t holding back, and he wasn’t pulling his punches, but the most amazing part of all of it was how Matt not only kept up but seemed to _know_ where Bucky was going to punch even before he moved.

From her place on his left, (Y/N) whispered, “Incredible,” her face, what he could see of it, full of awe.

“What?” Steve murmured, leaning closer.

“He’s anticipating Bucky, isn’t he?” she asked.

“Yeah. How can you tell?”

“I… I can _hear_ Bucky move. The change in his breath before he punches, the sounds of his arm as it gears up, the way his clothing rustles.” Her hand sought out his and closed tightly around it. “God, Steve… I… I can _smell_ him,” she breathed out reverently. “Matt, too, but he’s… subtler. Everything is muted with Matt.”

Scent wise, Steve guessed that would make sense. With Matt’s enhanced sense of smell, it would likely make what he did more difficult if he had to block out his own scents.

A hard grunt had Steve’s attention snapping back to the center of the room. Matt had caught Bucky in the stomach with that stick of his. The next move had his eyes widening in surprise when Matt used Bucky’s bent form to leap into the air above him and slam the heel of his boot directly between Buck’s shoulder blades. “Holy…”

“Shit…” (Y/N) finished for him.

“How much can you… _see_?” Steve asked. They’d discussed what she’d done the night before with Matt and found her experience wasn’t so different from how Matt _saw_ the world.

Bucky stumbled forward, spun back, caught Matt on the way down, and punched him square in the chest. Flying backward, Matt flipped at the last minute, boots skidding as he slid to a stop.

She frowned, tightening the grip on his hand. “Parts, pieces. The big moves. But not _see_ , more like… sense? Like… echolocation, I guess.”

A click from Matt’s stick preceded a hook and cable flying from the end, heading for Bucky’s legs. The metal arm swung down, deflecting the attack, but Matt was already on the move. His knee connected with Bucky’s chest, Buck’s fist with his ribs. An expulsion of air was all the sound Matt made as he kicked Bucky in the thigh.

A knife appeared in Bucky’s hand, heading for Matt’s face. Back together, the stick of his swept up, knocking it away, but Bucky had already flipped it, tossing the blade to his other hand as he planted his boot in Matt’s chest and kicked him hard.

Matt went down, skidding backward, rolled and crouched there, panting for breath as a smile crossed his lips. “This has been far more fun than I expected, Sergeant.”

Chuckling, Bucky muttered, “Done already, Murdock?”

“Not hardly.”

Again the speed of strike and deflect increased, ramping up to a level few were capable of maintaining. Another click of his weapon had a chain appearing in the center, wrapping around the blade of Bucky’s knife and dragging it from his hand. It clattered loudly when it skidded across the cement, sending Barton leaping out of the way.

“Watch it!” the archer snapped.

“I missed, didn’t I?” Matt said, ramming his elbow into Bucky’s ribs.

Clenching his left fist, Bucky threw a right hook, catching Matt in the jaw, sending him reeling.

The tables turned, Bucky having now figured out how Matt was doing what he was. Fists and feet flew, blows exchanged, a few more landing for Buck than earlier, but it was still damn impressive.

“Time!” Bruce called out.

Dropping their hands, both Bucky and Matt took a step back, straightening up slowly.

“Fuck, man,” Bucky chuckled. “That was something.”

Wrapping an arm around his ribs, Matt held onto his chest. “Remind me not to piss you off for real.”

“Matt?” (Y/N) called out, concern in her voice. “Did you… break something?”

“Cracked, not broken,” he confirmed, causing Bruce to hurry forward.

“Let me see,” Bruce said, probing at Matt’s chest, drawing the shirt up out of the way to reveal the swiftly forming bruises.

“Shit!” Bucky hissed. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

Striding forward, (Y/N) still hanging onto his hand, Steve could only shake his head at Matt’s response.

“I was having too much fun.” The masked man winced when Bruce prodded a little harder. “Besides, I know my limits. I’ve fought with worse.”

“How can you be sure you cracked these?” Bruce asked, eyeing the blackening marks carefully.

“(Y/N), what do you hear when I breathe?”

Glancing down, Steve watched her push the blindfold up, her ethereal eyes opening, taking his breath like they always did. He didn’t care what anyone said, they were stunning, possibly the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, and when she’d suggested getting glasses to cover them like most blind people, he’d vehemently fought against it. They were a part of her, a beautiful part, and not something to be hidden.

“They… grind?” she said hesitantly.

“Exactly. Broken ones crunch when bone shifts against bone. These are cracked, causing a grinding sound were the small fracture moves together.” Pulling his shirt down, Matt took the hat from his head. “I will heal quickly enough, but it was a pleasure, Sergeant Barnes. I do believe you’d give Danny a challenge.”

“Iron Fist,” Bucky nodded. “I’ve seen the tapes.”

Giving Bruce a poke in the ribs, Natasha took Matt’s arm. “Well, Daredevil, shall we find you some ice?”

“Ms. Romanoff, I would be delighted to have your assistance,” Matt smiled, patting Bucky’s shoulder on the way by. “We may have to do this again.”

“Name the time and place, Murdock,” Bucky agreed.

The sly smirk on Natasha’s face and clear appreciation in her eyes had Steve biting back a laugh. Nat had been reluctant about bringing Murdock in to help (Y/N), but only because she was suspicious of the intel. How could a blind man possibly do the things Daredevil had done? But now, with this impressive display out of the way, she was warming up to the idea.

Looking around, he noted respect and keen appreciation, the others impressed, on the faces of those gathered, all but Loki and Thor whom (Y/N) was still mad at and refusing to speak to. Loki looked to be pouting, while Thor kept casting sad-eyed glances her way.

The orders had been handed down. No one was to speak of her return as the Valkyrie Queen. That was for their team only to know. The rest of the base was already well aware of her return as a Valkyrie, but the rest went no farther than the ears of those who were witness to Thor and Loki’s pronouncement from the night before.

The scroll with her past lives listed on it was safely tucked away where no one could get to it, all information on it had been wiped from the recovered hound’s files. As far as anyone would ever know, (Y/N) had been taken because she was wanted for her Valkyrie powers. Nothing more, nothing less.

Matt’s presence was being explained away as her tutor and guide to help her adjust to these new challenges. What training they would do would be done in private inside the bunker, while publicly, around the base they would be seen working on things like her braille, and using the cane Tony would be making for her.

Stark had been inspired after seeing Matt’s the night before and was already planning to do things like add FRIDAY to the cane, linking the AI to a simple earpiece, giving (Y/N) the freedom to not need to see to read computer files or use the phone. It was funny, but out of all the team it was he, Bucky, and Stark most adamant to see she recovered as best she could.

Clint too, as her previous mentor, was a constant flow of positivity, and Steve had never been more grateful to the archer. But Clint had obligations outside the Avengers he’d spent too long away from. They all knew Laura understood, it was (Y/N) after all, part of her family, but the archer needed to go home.

Now that the morning’s entertainment was through, Clint sauntered forward to grab (Y/N) up in a bear hug, lift her from the ground, and swing her back and forth like a child.

“When I come back, brat, I expect you to be able to run through the forest, dodging my arrows again.”

“Feathers,” she sighed, hugging just as tight. “Maybe this time you’ll be able to hit me.” She smiled when he set her down, but it didn’t hide the uncertainty from her features.

Cupping her face, Clint gave her cheeks a firm squeeze. “Darlin, you may not have been able to see that, but I could. You’re the best padawan I’ve ever had. Listen to this new Obi-Wan, and you’re going to be back to fighting form in no time.”

“Did you just _Star Wars_ me?” she snickered, the worry falling away.

“That I did, young Jedi,” he chuckled, kissing her forehead.

“Yes, Master Yoda,” she quipped, giving Clint a mocking bow.

“Ha! You all heard it! She called me master!” Clint crowed, jumping in a circle.

Rolling her eyes, she swatted at him, catching the archer in the arm. “Go home, feathers!”

He swept her up in a second hug, held tight, and Steve could see the way Clint was torn.  

Setting his hand on the man’s shoulder, he didn’t say anything about the fear he saw in the archer’s eyes, the memories of what happened the last time he’d left swamping the man.

Nothing was going to happen to her. Not ever again. Not if Steve had a say in it.

The thought must have shown on his face, for Clint released her, but nodded to him. “You be safe, brat. Call me if you need me.”

“Oh for God's sake! I’m not dying! Go home before Laura disowns you!” she barked, shoving and shooing him away.

As the others filed out, going with Clint to see him off, Steve remained at his girl’s side, eyeing the two Asgardians. “You ever going to forgive them?”

“Eventually,” she muttered, turning into him and wrapping her arms around his waist. Resting her head on his chest, she rubbed her cheek on him like a cat wishing a petting.

Obliging, he stroked her hair and held her close. “They look like sad, sad, puppies.”

The talons of the gauntlet she now wore regularly, skimmed gently up and down his spine. “Good. They’ve been very bad. A smack with a newspaper was well deserved.”

“But they’re your family.”

She lifted her head to frown up at him. “Why are you on their side?” she pouted.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Not.”

“Are.”

“Fine,” he huffed, “I kind of am, but only because I can see how miserable they are. Add in the glare I’m getting from Loki, and I figure I may as well _try_ and get on the guy’s good side.”

Turning her head, she called out, “ _Ikke vær slike babyer. Gudene burde ikke poute. Og slutte å se på meg sjelevenn, Loki!”_

Thor’s face lit up, but Loki’s scowl only deepened.

“What did you say?” Steve nearly growled, bending closer, unable to believe how hot he found it when she snapped something out in that language.

“I told them to stop acting like babies, that gods shouldn’t pout, and for Loki to stop glaring at you.” Turning around, she fell back against him with a thump and crossed her arms.

“Does that mean we’re forgiven, Sváfa?” Thor asked, striding closer.

“She insists she is still (Y/N) in this life, brother, no matter how much she remembers.” Loki looked at him through narrowed eyes, making Steve sigh quietly.

Apparently, it would be an uphill battle with the former God of Mischief.

Leaning down, he kissed the crown of her head, murmuring against her hair, “Why don’t I leave you in their hands. I’m sure you three have catching up to do.” Before she could protest, he squeezed her shoulders and walked swiftly away, pretending not to notice when she muttered “Traitor,” under her breath.

***

Glaring in the direction of the two beating hearts of the Asgardian dumbasses, you vowed to get even with Steve later. “Your jealousy is going to get old _real_ fast, Loki.”

“It is not jealousy!” he snapped. “ _He_ is the reason you are in this predicament! _He_ did not see to you as he should have. _He_ is not fit to-”

You had him by the throat so fast you shocked yourself. “Think long and hard about your next words, God of Mischief.”

“Still full of fire, Sváfa. It is good to have you back,” Thor chuckled, wrapping his large hand around your wrist. “Forgive Loki. The way we found you after the battle, bloody, unconscious, it disconcerted us both. We have waited a long time to have you back, and to lose you in nearly the same instant was… difficult.”

The words dulled some of the anger, enough to have you letting go of Loki. “I care deeply for you, Loki, but make no mistake, if you force me to choose, I will choose Steve.”

While his next move likely would have shocked the crap out of the rest of your team, it surprised neither you nor Thor in the least when he gathered you close. “You worried me, _lillesøster._ Don’t do it again.”

Throwing your arms around his neck, you held on just as tightly. “I will try very hard not to.”

It seemed to be the day for good hugs when Thor smooshed up behind you, wrapped his arms around both you and Loki, and lifted the two of you straight up. “We have our Valkyrie back, brother!” he bellowed, laughing heartily.

“Thor,” you gasped, “can’t breathe!”

He instantly dropped you back to the ground. “You used to be tougher.”

“You used to be smaller!” Huffing, you brought your hands to Loki’s chest, his arms unwilling to let you go. “Be nice to my _sjelevenn._ What happened, happened because I was naïve and our bond was new. Don’t hold it against Steve, please, Loki?”

He sighed, one that sounded exceptionally long-suffering and just like him. “If I must.”

“And play nice.” The roll of his eyes, the sound now distinct, made you snicker.

“If I truly must, I shall endeavour to,” he shuddered, “ _behave_.”

Laughing, you shook your head. “You make it sound like a dirty word.”

“Oh, it is, darling. A _ghastly_ word. Atrocious and all that.” He hugged you again.

You could nearly feel the happiness radiating off him. “So, how long?”

They both went perfectly still before Thor’s hand came down on your shoulder. “It has been… some time.”

“We were concerned…” Loki trailed off.

“We feared your soul hadn’t returned. That your journey was finished until the day we found you here,” Thor said.

“How… how long?” you asked again, voice hoarse.

“A millennium.”

“What!?” you gasped. That wasn’t how it worked. You may be gone for a hundred, even two hundred years, but to be gone a thousand… it was unheard of!

The ripple of Loki’s magic washed over your skin; then he was leading you a few steps to where he encouraged you to sit on the seat he’d created.

“It gets worse,” Loki said, clutching your hand. “Because of your extended absense, Gunborg has been talking.”

“Talking?” You likely already knew about what, but you had to ask.

“She wants you removed.”

“In other words, dethroned,” you snarled. “I’ve always hated that bitch. How the hell she ever end up _sjelevenn_ the fates only know!”

“You can’t ask us to keep this from the Valkyrjur,” Thor said softly.

“You must!”

“You’re people are suffering! And if Gunborg succeeds, _she_ is next in line!”

“Do you think I don’t know that!” you shouted, getting to your feet and turning on Thor. “I have put up with her for so many lives, Thor, but I can’t! I can’t come back. Not like this!”

“You must.”

Turning on Loki, you sneered, “And I will be challenged by Gunborg, fail in the protection of my throne, and die! I will lose it all anyway!” Pacing a few steps away, you shook your head. “No. In my next life, all can be made right. Gunborg can’t defeat me when I’m whole.”

“And what if you don’t come back as a Valkyrie?” Loki asked quietly, the rustle of his clothes announcing him as he made his way toward you.

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, your mother’s gauntlet suddenly much too heavy. “I will.”

“You don’t know that,” Thor murmured. “It has been a thousand years, and in that time, you have barely been here, but not once have you returned to Asgard, so where have you been, Sváfa? Where was your soul?”

“Waiting?” you whispered, the answer more question than you wished. “Steve and I were off this last life. He was too early; I was too late. Fate balanced us out.”

“Why?”

The question came from Thor. “Because we belong together.”

“No,” he rumbled, taking your hand. “Why were you off balance? Why weren’t your souls aligned? How were you thrown out of sync?”

“I… I don’t know.” You hadn’t thought about it.

“And the scroll?” Loki asked, taking your other hand. “I saw it, (Y/N). It is not of this Earth. It had the seal of the temple scribe upon it.”

“What?” you gasped. “What are you saying, Loki?”

“Missing a thousand years, out of balance with your _sjelevenn’s_ soul, and the sacred record of your life appears in the hands of Hydra? What do you think I’m saying?” he scoffed.

“Is it… even possible?”

Thor sighed softly. “I asked the _Fullmakt_ a hypothetical question while I was at the temple. Whether it was possible to disrupt a soul’s journey, to mess with a _sjelevenn_ bond. When she asked why I wanted to know, I lied, told her it had been so long since you walked our world, I was worried something happened to you. She called in the high priestess.”

“And?” you whispered.

“It takes a great act of evil, a heinous act, a sacrifice of epic proportions… but yes.”

Inhaling sharply, you clutched at your chest, heart seeming to want to beat right from it. “What… what sacrifice?”

“(Y/N), you don’t need to know,” Loki tried to put you off.

“Loki, tell me.”

He growled out a sound of displeasure, paced away, paced back. “It’s dark magic. Darker even than I have delved.”

“Loki…”

He snarled, snapped his teeth together, not wanting to speak of it, and finally bit out, “A child!”

Eyes slamming shut, you whimpered, the idea of it sickening, and fell into Thor’s arms when he dragged you close. “An innocent life.”

“The younger, the better,” Loki murmured.

“A baby.” Fighting back the need to be sick, you clutched at Thor. “So why am I here with Steve? What happened?”

“We don’t know,” Thor said.

“Nearest I can guess is it doesn’t work _every_ life. You and Steve matchup here on Earth every so often, but you are never reborn on Asgard. I don’t know… I don’t know enough about how it works,” Loki admitted. “And I haven’t been able to find out.”

“Now do you see? You need to return. Someone is messing with your destiny.”

Resting your forehead on Thor’s chest, you sighed. “I can’t.”

“You must!” Loki snapped.

“I’m not riding this merry-go-round with you again!” you bellowed. “I’m a blind Valkyrie! Blind! Gods forbid if any of the Valkyrjur were to find out the target on my back would be so big, I might as well slit my own throat!”

“Then you learn from this… _Murdock_ , and return when you are ready!” Loki roared.

“And what if I’m never ready? Steve is my destiny, where I belong. How am I to be on Asgard and here at the same time, Loki? Hm? I can’t!”

“So you’d let your entire race suffer?”

“Don’t you put that on me!” Pushing off Thor, you pointed at Loki. “You know what it means to be _sjelevenn_! You know! You can’t ask this of me!”

“I ask it of you.” Thor’s voice, hard, deep, full of command rumbled in gravelly tones behind you.

“You can’t make me, Thor. King or no, you have no say over the Valkyrjur.”

“I’m not asking as King.”

“Well, it sure as fuck sounded like a command from a king!”

His strides were loud across the floor before his hands closed around your upper arms. “I’m asking as your friend! As the brother I thought I was to you. You’re people need you! And you need to find out what is interrupting your journey, or this may very well be the last life you ever share with your _sjelevenn_!”

“Take your hands off her!” The harshness in Steve’s voice sent a chill down your spine.

“Steve,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around yourself when Thor let you go.

“This? This is what happens when I leave her with you? With people she claims as _family_?”

The singing sound of his shield was beautiful. You’d never noticed it before, but it hummed gently, a most melodious sound as if it sought to comfort you, offer reassurance.

“Captain, it is not what you think,” Thor said, backing away. “There is much going on we do not understand.”

“I understand enough to know you’re upsetting her. Damn it, Thor! I could feel it from across the compound!”

“That was not our intention, but she needed to know…” Loki trailed off when Steve’s angry strides crossed the room.

The heat from his body appeared in front of you, and you set your hands on his back.

“To know what? That her _throne_ is in danger when there isn’t a god damned thing she can do about it? Fuck you both!”

“Steve!” Sliding your hands forward, you held him back when he flexed his shield arm.

“I swore I would never let anyone else hurt her the way I did, the way Garry did. Now I’ve broken that promise by leaving her with you.” Reaching back, Steve wrapped his arm around you, bring you to his side. “You put this on her when she’s already has to relearn how to live? How to fight? How to _survive_?” He hesitated a moment, and you were sure the angry Captain America glare was on his face. “I thought better of you. Of you both.”

You were unprepared when he simply slung you up into his arms, but swiftly wrapped your arms around his neck and held on. The angry staccato of his boots across the floor was the only sound to be heard until the door to the outside slammed open, and the wind and the birds filled your ears.

Resting your forehead against his temple, you let the silent tears flow. “Steve…”

“No.”

“But…”

“No!” he barked. “You need to focus on you right now. If in the future you feel you want to address _that_ shit storm, then we will, but right now, I swear to the almighty, baby, if you let those two dumbasses get in your head, I will personally speak with Heimdall and have their passes to Midgard revoked!”

You gave a wet chuckle at his words. “Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.”

“I’d figure it out,” he grumbled.

“I’m sure you would.”

His strides slowed the farther from the bunker he got. “You okay?”

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know someone is messing with us.”

“Yeah.”

Coming to a stop, Steve turned his face, causing you to lift your head. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart when you’re ready.”

“And if I never am? If this is the last life we get?” you asked, the fear in your heart making it pound.

“Then I will love you with every ounce of my soul to the end of this life.”

“Steve,” you whispered, touching his cheek and guiding his lips to yours.

He kissed you beneath the trees, soft and gentle, a quiet but passionate mating of mouths.

When he finally pulled back, you were still lightly touching his face and asked, “You could feel me?”

“Like a second heart in my chest, one full of pain,” he murmured. “Is that… normal?”

Sighing, you rested your forehead against his. “Steve, nothing about this life has been normal.” Again, you didn’t know what that meant and really didn’t want to think about it, any of it, right now. “My head hurts.”

“Then let’s have a nap, baby. I’ll even join you.”

Sighing softly, you nodded slowly. “Yes, please.”

Humming a comforting sound, he headed for the compound.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Smut NSFW 18+
> 
> Song: I Walk the Line by Halsey

## Chapter Five

* * *

The air in your lungs rushed out when you slammed back first into the mat. Laying there, momentarily stunned, you sucked air, desperate to get some wind back.

Once you could breathe again, you smacked the flat of your hand down on the ground beside you and snarled, “Damn it!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve improved a lot since we started.” Holding down his hand, Matt waited to help you up.

“Not enough,” you sighed, slapping your palm to his.

It had been a month since you’d started training with Matt and in that time you’d been able to master the art of seeing without seeing in your daily life. It was growing easier every day to walk the hallways of the compound without walking into something.

While he’d taught you to use a cane, you decided to keep it for missions when you wanted to appear like the average blind person. Everyone who worked for the Avengers was already aware of your abilities as a Valkyrie, and simply assumed your enhanced senses were the reason you could maneuver the compound so easily.

You could tune in or out the noise far easier than before, though you still found it difficult to distinguish individual conversations in a large group of people.

Scent and taste were coming along as well, Matt getting Tony to bring in a variety of items for you to learn and memorize. By the end of the day you were usually both mentally and physically exhausted from his vigorous and intense training regime. You both relished and hated the challenge. Learning the new things you needed to were fun and stimulating, but the simple things you'd always taken for granted, the ease with which you'd fought, or aimed a weapon, was now so much harder.

It felt like days of old when you’d first learned to fight under Tove’s tutelage. Your mother had not pulled her punches either, sending you to your back over and over again until you learned all she had to teach you.

“Hey,” Matt grasped you by the elbows once you were back on your feet. “The only reason I got your feet out from under you is that you became distracted.”

“I know, I know.”

“He’ll be back this afternoon.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“And you talked to him this morning. Everything went fine.”

Your forehead connected with Matt’s chest. After a month of nearly living in each other’s pocket he knew you almost as well as Steve. Add in the fact you were constantly in contact with each other, holding on to his arm, sharing food, hands moving together over braille as he helped you learn, it had been easy to slip into a close friendship with the man who once called himself Daredevil.

It was like gaining a brother. Wanda said it had been the same with her and Pietro. You just knew each other, got each other, so when he talked about Steve, he did so because he knew what you were going through.

“I know it did.”

Steve, Bucky, and Sam had left on a mission three days ago. He'd fought against going, knowing how painful it was for you to watch him leave, put himself in danger without you to watch his back, but they needed the power the two super soldiers brought to the team.

It was a hostage situation, high valued targets, in which a small team of agents were needed. Bucky had sworn he, Sam, and Natasha could handle it, but when the Intel had come through it was glaringly evident they needed Steve for the job. He and Bucky had the necessary strength and stealth, while Sam had the tech.

Steve had waffled right up to the moment you’d smacked him in the abs and told him to go. Yes, you needed him, but he also had a job to do. 

It had hurt like hell when he'd left, but you'd held it together, kissed him goodbye, and made it back to your room before you allowed the wave of panic and fear to overwhelm you. It had done little good hiding how difficult his leaving had been as Steve had called, wanting to know what had happened. Even at a distance he'd felt the hard jerk and lurch of your heart.  

Stroking your hair, Matt murmured, “Why don’t we call it early today?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you’re kind of worthless.”

“Hey!”

He chuckled as you pulled away. “Kidding, kidding.”

Throwing a half-hearted punch at his head, you shook yours. “Have you talked to Elektra?”

He ducked even as he sighed. “Briefly.”

“I'm sorry, Matty.”

The rift caused between them by Matt’s decision to come to your aid had you feeling a little guilty. They had been done with all their defenders of justice bullshit - as Elektra put it - and shouldn’t be getting themselves involved.

But Matt was Matt. Getting the call from Steve, a man he admired for his principles, had set Matt at odds with his girl. Now they were barely speaking, and when they did it never went well.

“Hey, not your fault.” He shook his head as he stripped off his mask.

Even now, he still used it. Said it was like slipping into a different persona. He channelled his abilities better when he allowed himself to be Daredevil once again.

“It kind of is,” you muttered, tugging off your blindfold. “You'd gotten out of all this only to be pulled back in because of me.”

His hand came down on your shoulder. “I _chose_ to come — my choice. I…” he hesitated, then sighed. “I… miss it.”

“Yeah?”

He heaved out another heavy breath. “Yeah. It made me… weirdly happy. Helping people. Taking down corruption. Doing some good with these… abilities,” he looked down, flexed his hands. “Made me feel…”

“Complete,” you finished for him and got a nod. “I get that.”

“I know you do. I can see it every time you're with Steve.”

“So if defending and shit makes you happy, do it.”

“I would, but I'm dead,” he chuckled. The sound, however, was hollow without mirth.

“You don't have to stay dead if you don't want to, Matt. Stories can be spread. _Miracles_ can occur. We're pretty good at that here. Make a story up about amnesia, you've only just regained your memory. We can bring you back if you want to come back.”

“I miss Foggy. Karen, too,” he murmured, more to himself than you. “I don't know.”

“I know you love Elektra, but is being with her worth being miserable in everything else? You tried to hang up your horns once and look what happened.”

“Since when did you become the sage in this relationship?” he quipped, done with the conversation.

“Just… think about it, Matty.”

***

You were in the shower washing away the sweat and grime from your session with Matt when you heard it. There was a jet incoming.

Your heart leapt and “ _Sjelevenn_ ,” whispered from your lips.

But of course when you tried to rush through the rest of your shower your hands grew clumsy, knocking the bottles to the floor. Swearing softly, you listened to the sounds of engines growing steadily closer as you scrambled to put everything to rights.

Finishing in record time, you leapt from the shower, threw a towel around yourself, another around your head and raced out the bathroom door.

The closet was no longer a challenge thanks to the girls and Matt. Bra and underwear went on without a hitch, leggings stuck to your wet skin and were sworn at as you forced them up your legs with a wild shimmy. Grabbing a thick sweater from the dresser, you struggled into it, knocking free the towel from your head, and found the tag scratching your throat. Ripping it off as you listened to the jet land, you whipped it around, threw it back on, slammed your feet into running shoes and darted out the door.

The race down the hallway was a giddy one. People darted to get out of your way. Some laughed, others catcalled giving you the gears, all of them knew exactly where you were headed.

You couldn’t care less. All you knew was you needed to get to the hanger, to Steve. The wash of red in your mind had you darting in and around people when they didn’t move fast enough.

This too made you giddy, a little giggly, because of how nice it was to have a semblance of sight back. No, it wasn’t what had once been, but in some aspects, it was better. The map in your head of the people and the building was just so much _more_ now. You didn’t have to _see_ what was around the corner with your eyes because you already _knew_ what was there.

At the doors to the hanger, you slowed, pushed them open, getting a bead on the room. There were far too many people in it for your liking. Quinjets sat wingtip to wingtip; equipment scattered around. It was like a damn obstacle course between you and the jet which smelled of heat and fuel, oil and sky.

The hiss of the ramp coming down had your head turning.

Boots on metal. The whir of Bucky’s arm. Sam’s wonderful laugh made you smile, but it was the sound of familiar steps and the singing song of Steve’s shield which had you moving forward.

But _gawd_! There were so many people!

_Why the hell did they land on the far side of the hanger_?

You charted the most direct route to take you to Steve. Three steps saw you to the ladder of the nearest quinjet. Once you were standing on its roof, you took off at a run, leaping effortlessly to the wing of the next jet, up over its roof and down the other side.

Flipping off the wing, you landed in a clear section of floor and raced on. You darted around the tail of another jet. A mechanical lift with a large metal beam hung in your way. Pushing hard, you slid beneath it on your knees, and were up and running again within seconds.

The herd of people between you and Steve kept growing, all wanting to congratulate the returning heroes on their successful mission, but you were having none of it.

“Clear a _fucking_ path!” you bellowed.

It was like the red sea parted before you. Everyone turned, took a step back, yanking other people out of the way when you headed for them at a dead run.

You grinned wide when Bucky chuckled and stepped into your path, his metal arm outstretched. Laughing, you didn’t bother to slow down but sped up. When you got closer, you rounded into a cartwheel, pushed off in a handspring which saw you landing feet first on Bucky’s arm.

“Easy, doll face!” he barked, bracing beneath your weight, but you were already launching yourself at Steve standing with Tony and Sam.

“Steve!” squealed from your lips.

“Jesus!” he yelled, arms coming up in the nick of time when you slammed full force into his chest.

Your legs went around his waist and clamped tight. Thrusting your hands into his hair, you sealed your lips to his in a kiss which took his breath and sent him stumbling backwards.

“I… missed… you… so… much!” you said between kisses.

With his shield magnetized to his arm his hand easily delved into your hair, the heavy glove of his suit catching and tugging on your locks in a surprisingly pleasant way. Hidden mostly from view by the large singing shield, you nipped and bit at his lips. His tongue slid its way into your mouth, tasting and twisting with yours before pulling you back by the hair to catch his breath.

“Baby, it’s only been three days,” he said, but his lips brushed over yours again as soon as the words were out.

“Three days without you!” Diving back in, you ate at his mouth, sucking and biting at his tongue, his other hand squeezing your ass when a disgruntled huff came from the far side of the shield.

“Get a fucking room,” Bucky teased.

“We have a debriefing to get to, Cap,” Sam chuckled.

Hefting you higher, Steve walked away. “It can wait.”

“Excellent decision, Captain,” you purred against his ear.

“She’s thoroughly corrupted him,” Tony snickered. “I love it.”

“He’s whipped,” Sam said.

“Pussy whipped,” agreed Bucky.

“Fuck you, jerk,” Steve grumbled, making you chuckle.

“They're all jealous,” you whispered in Steve’s ear, grinning at the men though it was likely only Bucky who could hear you.

Catcalls and whistling followed the two of you through the hanger, but it neither slowed Steve down nor stopped you from attacking his throat above the collar of his uniform. Together you slammed through the hanger doors into the main compound. The clanging sound of Steve’s shield hitting them echoed loudly.

You couldn’t have cared less.

The scent of Steve saturated every particle of air you breathed in. The taste of him was on your tongue. His suit was hard beneath your hands, but his hair and skin were soft. The scruff of three day’s growth of beard abraded your chin and cheek when you took your teeth to his jaw.

“Baby,” he moaned softly, “least wait till we get to the room.”

“Don’t wanna,” you murmured, nipping at his ear. “Missed you. Need to touch you.”

He hissed at the sting. “We’d get there faster if you’d let me concentrate.”

“Am I distracting you, _Captain_?” Crooning against his ear, you rolled your body into his in an act which had you plastering your fronts together.

“Yes!” he growled, tugging at your hair.

Laughing, you wiggled in his hold. “I know an even faster way of getting where we need to go.”

“Oh?”

You knew his brow would be arched. It always was with that cocky tone. “Yeah. Let me down, and I’ll show you.”

The spasm of his hand on your ass showed his reluctance before he let you go.

Dropping to your feet, you let your hands slide over his chest, figuring out which suit he had on. Not the stealth suit, not your favourite, but the next best. The one with the defined red and white abdomen, similar to the stealth one you adored with its design but in his traditional colours. The shoulder harness for his shield was a combination of smooth leather and cool metal when you slipped your fingers underneath it and gave a tug.

When he leaned down, you smiled slyly, pressed up on your toes and kissed him till his entire body softened before pulling away. Humming your pleasure, you licked your lips to catch the taste of him again, dragged your fingertips down over his Kevlar encased abdominals to his belt. “You want to get there fast, Captain?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice strained.

Looking up at him, you smiled seductively, peering up through your lashes, using your new senses to _see_ the flush on his cheeks, the sweat on his brow, the way he swallowed. You could smell the heat on him, the lust growing. It made you feel powerful to know he was so thoroughly yours in that instant you likely could have dragged him into the supply closet and had him out of his suit in under a minute, but you were only just getting started.

Three days felt like three years. You weren’t letting him out of your bed until you’d touched every inch of skin and knew without a shadow of a doubt he was unharmed.

Shifting a little, aware of the people trying so hard _not_ to watch the two of you and this public display of affection, you moved with lightning speed, a quickness you had yet to exhibit from your Valkyrie powers to any one but Matt, and took Steve’s feet out from under him.

“Catch me if you can, Cap!” Laughing loudly, you darted away.

“(Y/N)!” he bellowed. “You’d best run!”

Continuing to giggle, you pulled out all your tricks, running like a gazelle, all speed and grace and lightness of step. You sought ahead, making sure not to run into anyone.

The heavy booted feet of Steve coming after you pounded in time with your heartbeat. Where once he would have been on you in strides, now, to the Captain’s apparent surprise, he had to work to keep up. When his hearty chuckle sounded behind you, you only grinned wider.

The turn to the living quarters was coming up. Instead of slowing, you made the turn at a dead run, leaping at the last second to push off the wall and keep going.

“One side, Vis!” you laughed joyously, sliding around the android. “Watch out for Steve!” you warned just as the thump of a body hitting something solid and the sharp grunt of your _sjelevenn_ informed you the Captain had not made the same grace-filled turn you had.

“Captain?” Vision questioned, staring at the stumbling man.

“I’m good. Damn, she’s fast!” Steve chuckled, causing the ringing sound of your laughter to wash out when you jogged to a stop before your shared door.

Grinning his direction, you pushed it open and sauntered inside.

“Is this… _sprint_ through the compound part of (Y/N)’s training with Murdock?” Vision asked.

“Something like that,” Steve said, striding quickly toward the open door.

“Would she require assistance with the next one?”

“Vis,” Wanda called out, and you could hear the smile in her voice. “Come. I will explain the nature of what this all meant.”

You could still hear Vision muttering about the strangeness of people when Steve’s presence filled the doorway. Stripping your sweater over your head, you let it drop from your hand as you backed away, heading for the bedroom.

A rumble like a hungry animal escaped Steve’s chest when the door shut and the lock engaged. “That was pretty damn impressive, doll face,” he said. The sound of the electromagnets disengaging preceded his shield going quiet when it settled on the sofa.

“Getting easier every day,” you said, smiling as you shimmied out of your leggings.

“Fuck, baby…” he moaned, his eyes feeling hot on your skin when they roamed over you. “You went up the wall and…”

“And?” you asked, stepping slowly backward in only your underwear as he advanced.

“My blood rushed south. Should have made that turn. Ran straight into the wall instead.”

Bursting out laughing, you stopped when your calves made contact with the bed. “And here I though a little chase would be _less_ distracting.”

“You thought watching you run, enticing me to chase you, knowing it would end up with you naked under me screaming my name, would be _less_ distracting?”

“Alright, maybe not, but it did get us to this point so much faster.”

“Can I expect such a welcome every time I have to go away?”

“Only when you go without me.” Which, if you had your way, would be never again.

“Well… that sucks.”

Surprised, you laid your hands on his chest when he stopped before you. “What? Why?”

His gentle hands, now devoid of gloves cupped your face. “Because I don’t plan on going anywhere without you ever again.”

“Steve,” you whispered as your heart turned over.

“God you’re gorgeous, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours.

Fumbling with his belt, you got it undone and let it hit the floor. “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever gotten to participate in getting you out of this suit.” Using the tips of your sensitive fingers, you passed them over his chest and abs. “Alright, how do you get in and out of this thing?” There wasn’t a buckle, zipper, or fastener to be found until you let your fingers drift down to cup the very firm length between his thighs. “Nice to see they at least made _this_ easily accessible.”

“Is that an invitation to have you with the suit on?” he asked, his smile wide when he pressed his lips to your throat and drew them slowly down, teeth nipping into your skin.

“I would say yes, but it stinks.” You didn’t mind the sweat so much, but the scent of gunpowder, blood, and some kind of grease was becoming overpowering. “What the hell did you slide through?”

“Mechanic's shop,” he muttered, leading your hands around to the back of his suit. “Lots of oil. There’s a flap of Kevlar velcroed down, under it is a zipper. Hit the latch for the shield harness first.”

“And just _why_ were you sliding through the oil and grunge of a mechanic’s shop?”

“Ugh…” he hesitated.

Pressing the harness release, you pulled it from his back and let it fall to join his belt. While he toed off his boots, you dragged the zipper down. “Steven?”

“There may have been a… a rocket launcher…”

“Steven!”

“It was a small one, and the shield took the impact. I just kind of… skidded… a little.”

Shoving the suit forward, you let him strip it down his arms so your forehead could connect with his back. Beneath the suit he had on a tight, compression top and similar briefs, both damp with sweat, but you paid it no mind. You’d never known sweaty man could smell good until Steve, until _Helgi_ , but the scent of your _sjelevenn_ was like home and never repulsed you.

“Hey, darlin’,” he murmured, rubbing the arms you’d wrapped around him. “I’m fine. You know I’ve taken a lot worse than a dirty slide through some old building.”

“I lost you… twice on the battlefield. Twice, Steve. Don’t make light of something like this.”

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, turning around to, again, take your face in his hands. The suit hung around his waist, rubbing against your bare skin in a not necessarily unpleasant way. “I’ve been doing this a long time. I know what I can and can’t take.”

Wrapping your hand at the back of his neck, you pulled him down until his forehead pressed to yours. Taking one of his hands from your face, you brought it to rest over the wildly beating heart in your chest. “Listen to this, Steve. Feel what it was like when I lost you as Sváfa.”

Returning to that time in your memory, you gasped at the sharp pain when it washed through you. Even though he stood right in front of you, flesh and blood and whole, the pain was as fresh as if it had just happened.

“They didn’t think it possible to die of a broken heart,” you whispered when he shuddered, the strange bond between you filling him with your feelings on the matter, “but I did. I did… twice.”

“Sweetheart… I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing you softly. Jaw, cheeks, chin, he placed tender kisses all over your face, finally drifting back to your lips where he kissed you breathless.

The small tilt of his head and parted lips met yours, encouraging your mouth open with gentle persistence so his tongue could rub the edge of your teeth. The tip of his tongue caught the end of yours, teased and slipped around it, sending tingles down your spine and a moan washing from your throat.

Noses brushed together. Hearts beat as one.

You nipped into his lip, sucked it into your mouth, pulling on it with small tugs until he echoed the sound you’d made. A heady moan of wanton desire rumbled from his throat.

Shoving at his suit, you forced the heavy material down his legs, never breaking from the kiss. It landed at his feet where he stepped on it, turning the legs inside out to get the thing off as your hands dragged the hem of his top up, revealing his sculpted abs and chest.

Forced to break the kiss, you lifted the shirt over his head, Steve assisting, jerking it from his arms as your hands fell frantically to his shorts.  Dropping to your knees, you practically tore the fabric down his legs, freeing his cock in one fell swoop, where it bobbed, brushing against your cheek.

Turning your head, you licked the shaft right back to the tip, wrapped your lips around his crown and sank deep, mouth meeting your hand without hesitation, causing every muscle in Steve’s body to jerk with the sensation.

“Fuck!” he barked, sinking his hands into your hair. “Shit, fuck… baby!”

Drawing back, you smirked when you pulled away. “Something wrong?”

“Nope, not a damn thing.” He wheezed a little, the excitement of having you swallow him so suddenly palatable on the air.

“You sure? Wouldn’t want to stress that old heart of yours.”

His hands tugged at your hair. “Not a chance.”

The tip of his cock nudged your lips. Licking the end, you opened wide, letting him slide back into the heated depths of your mouth. Sucking hard, you hollowed your cheeks, pulling on him with every thrust of his hips.

“So good...” he murmured, fingers carding and stroking through your hair. “Damn you’re good at that. Don’t stop, darlin'. Don’t stop. Fuck I missed you.”

Humming a chuckle, you looked up toward his face.

His hand landed lightly on your cheek, his thumb caressing the high arch of bone. “Look at me with those eyes. Just like that, (Y/N). They’re so beautiful, baby. They match your heart now. They show your incredible soul.”

A blush filled your cheeks, one of pleasure at hearing his praise. Running your hands up and down his thighs, you sucked and licked and ran the lightest caress of teeth over the  ridges and veins of his cock. It stretched your jaw a little, but the sounds of his pleasure, the way his body heated beneath your touch, the quiver and quake of his muscles kept you going.

Grunts of pleasure replaced his words of praise until he pulled quickly away, panting heavily. “Not like that. Not yet. I want you.” His hands went beneath your arms, lifting you easily to your feet where he brought you in, flesh to flesh, to seal his mouth to yours in a kiss which once would have left bruises.

Now you returned it with the same amount of vigour. Deft fingers easily snapped open the clasp of your bra, pinning it in place between you with how tight he held you. The ridge of his hard cock pressed into your thigh making you whimper in need. “Steve, please.”

Stepping back, he swept your bra down your arms, took you by the waist, turned, and threw you back on the bed where you giggled as you landed. A knee pressed between yours. Hands returned to your waist to the band of your underwear which were swiftly jerked down your legs.

Warm, callused fingers closed around your ankles and drew them apart, lifting them up and back while you leaned on your elbows. A smile played with your lips. The intensity with which he stared at you, heated gaze dragging over your flesh, felt like fingers on your skin. “See something you like, Captain?”

“ _Min vakre skjoldpike.”_

The words seemed to walk the length of your spine, shiver through your veins and settle deep in your heart. “ _Sjelevenn,”_ you moaned, letting your head fall back when those hard, strong hands skimmed down your calves, the back of your thighs, and under to cup your ass and drag you closer.

“Look how wet you are,” he murmured. The fingers of his right hand sent shivers through you as they made their way over to your core and slipped along your moist lips. He rubbed slow circles, playing with your clit, delving down to collect more of your slick and spread it around.

“God, Steve…” Arching up, you let your leg settle on his shoulder while the other fell open on the bed.

He leaned forward, his big body causing yours to flex with your leg over his shoulder. His tongue swept over your breast. Lips latched around your nipple and tugged just as his fingers slipped inside of you, pressing out against your walls in a scissoring motion which sent shocks of pleasure through your core.  

“ _Jeg trenger deg inne i meg, min kjærlighet_ ,” poured from your lips.

“Baby,” Steve moaned against your skin. “You know what that does to me.”

“I know,” you sighed, arching against his lips.

“Tell me?” His mouth skimmed up your throat to suck against your pulse.

“I need you inside me, my love.” Turning your face, you sank into his kiss.

He shifted over you, his body pressing yours back into the bed, stretching you into a near split when his big palm held your thigh down. “How badly do you need me?” he asked, rubbing his tip into your heat.

“So bad, Stevie. I missed you, I need you, I _want_ you,” you murmured, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“Yeah? How much do you want me?”

You smiled at his teasing. Stretched out as you were, you couldn’t even rock up against him. “As much as you want me.”

“That’s right, baby,” he purred. With a slow thrust, he sank deep, letting you feel every inch of him as he stretched your walls and filled you up.

“Fuck… you’re so damn big!”

He chuckled even as his muscles quivered with strain. “I’m already yours, darlin', no need to stroke my ego.”

“Shut up, _sjelevenn_.”

He continued to chuckle when he started to move. Long, slow glides of his thick cock through your already quivering walls.

“Fuck that feels so good, Stevie,” you moaned, sliding your hands down his back and dragging your nails up.

His face tucked into your throat, nipped and sucked beneath your ear. The roughness of his palms caused your skin to tingle when he stroked them over your thighs. His beard scratched your jaw, the sensation rushing straight to your core. The hand holding your thigh to the bed shifted, drew your leg up around his waist. He sank deeper, bottoming out, sending you reeling when the bliss flooded your core.

“ _Jeg elsker måten du elsker meg på_!”

The rumble of excitement slipped from his throat, setting his chest vibrating against yours. “Tell me.”

Cupping his face, you brought his mouth down. Kissing him softly, small pecks which matched the flex of his hips, you whispered against his mouth, “I love the way you make love to me.”

“Baby,” he sighed, running his nose along your jawline.  “ _Jeg elsker deg._ ”

“I love you, too, Stevie.” Stroking his cheek, you let your leg slide from his shoulder to his elbow.

He shifted enough to allow you leg fall to his waist, then lowered himself down, stretched himself over you, pressing you firmly into the bed where he took his hands over your sides.

Burying your hands in his hair, you whimpered when he went still.  

His hips held yours down. His body both restraining and comforting. “I missed you. It was only three days, but I missed you. I missed the softness of your skin against mine and the way you sleep on my chest at night. I missed the scent of your hair. I missed these eyes,” he murmured, placing a gentle touch to your cheek. “I missed your smile and your laugh.” He pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat. “I missed the smell of your skin, especially right here.” He lifted up enough to rub his nose between your breasts.

“Steve,” you sighed softly, heart full with his tenderness.

“It was three days, but it felt like three weeks.” He linked your hands together, stretching them up over your head. “I want to spend three days right here,” he crooned, flexing his hips and driving himself deeper.

“Fuck, Steve!”

“I am, sweetheart.” His mouth fell to your throat as short thrust started again. He was so deep, and so big, and so hard, it took very little movement on his part to send you spiraling.

Clenching your hands in his, you held on, unable to do anything but ride the wave of slowly building pleasure twisting in your belly. The short strokes saw his ridge catching on your sweet spot over and over and over. His lips pulled and sucked at your throat, leaving what you were sure would be a dark hickey. It would last a few hours before disappearing, aided by your healing abilities, but while it marked your skin, you would wear it proudly.

Heated skin, growing slick with sweat, moved together in an age-old dance of passion. Your body grew taut, your muscles shaking, your soft cries growing in volume as you reached for the heights. Each thrust took you up higher. Drove you on to reach for more when the spiraling coil in your belly finally gave with a snap, flooding your core with ecstasy, leaving you in a state of blissed-out moaning.

Panting, his heart beating hard against you, Steve rested his forehead on yours and rode out the clenching, clamping grip of your walls. Once the wave of your orgasm had slowed, he pulled away.

“ _Min vakre skjoldpike,”_ he whispered placing kisses on your face and chest as his hands went to your hips. “Let go with your legs, baby.”

Letting them drop to the bed, you giggled when you found yourself flipped to your belly. “Ooh, kinky.”

Sinking back between your legs, Steve settled himself at your entrance and dropped a half dozen kisses on your spine. “You would know,” he chuckled. Thrusting hard, he buried himself back in your body making you gasp in shocked pleasure.

“Fuck,” you moaned, turning your face to the mattress to stifle your voice.

Steve’s fingers threaded into your hair, closed in a fist and lifted your head. “Don’t, baby doll. I want to hear your voice.” The surging of his hips intensified, driving deep, thrusting directly into your g-spot.

Clenching your fists in the bedding, you nearly howled in pleasure. The weight of Steve against your spine kept you from moving. Completely at his mercy, you gave yourself over to his care, soaking in the scent that was uniquely Steve, wallowing in the way he knew you so well he could play your body like an instrument.

The tug at your hair with each downward thrust of his hips had you releasing a high pitched whine. He let go only to wrap that big hand around your throat, holding you gently so he could run his lips and teeth over your ear. “Missed this, too, doll face. Missed the way your body responds. Missed the way you moan my name. Missed the way you come on my cock.”

His words sent a clutch to your core, clamping down on him as the heat in your belly grew again.

“Just like that, baby. Want to feel you come on my cock. Squeeze it and milk it as only you can. _Min vakre skjoldpike, jeg elsker deg._ ”

When he called you his shield maiden and told you he loved you, you could no longer fight the fire growing inside you, didn’t want to, and screamed out, _“Steve!”_ when his teeth sank into your shoulder. Drowning in his scent, the pounding of his heart was all you could hear over the roaring of your blood in your ears.

You cried out again when the inferno which had been slowly growing raged into life, bursting outwards in streaks of pleasure through all your limbs. Your walls locked down around him, squeezing a shocked grunt from Steve.

Only a few hard thrusts more saw him swelling inside you, stretching your already tight channel, sending you into another round of moaning, screaming pleasure when he emptied himself out and let his head fall between your shoulder blades.

Slumping down, you gasped for air in tandem beneath your heavy as hell _sjelevenn._ Not that you would ever complain. The weight of him made you feel safe, and, in a way, powerful to have taken down this giant of a man with nothing more than a look and a shimmy out of your clothes.

He shifted enough to roll you both to your sides, spooning up against you with a sigh of contentment. “That was some welcome home, doll.” Big hands traced patterns on your torso, one coming up to gently knead a breast.

“It was fun,” you sighed, enjoying the small sparks and little whips of pleasure his hand on your breast was providing. Rolling over, you let your legs tangle and settled against his chest. When his fingers began running up and down your spine, you slowly took yours over his pecs and abs. “We should play tag more often.”

“Only if it ends with you naked,” he chuckled, kissing your forehead.

Rubbing your nose against his heart, you smiled. “I’m pretty sure that could be arranged.”

“You’re getting real good at the whole seeing without seeing thing.”

“Still can’t quite get a handle on it in a fight,” you sighed, a little sad. “Matt put me on my ass today.”

Steve drew you closer. “You’re gonna get there, (Y/N). I know you will.”

Heaving a sigh, you nodded. “I know. I just wish it was faster. I haven’t felt this… _amateurish_ in a very long time. And we haven't even started on weapons yet, just hand to hand.”

He brushed the hair from your cheek. “It’s a whole new ballgame, doll. It’s gonna take time. Have patience.”

“I don’t wanna,” you pouted, scratching at his chest.

Laughing, he caught the fingers of your right hand and brought them to his lips. “Where're your claws, pretty kitty?”

“Took it off when I had my shower. Left it in the bathroom when you landed.”

“You were in that much of a hurry, hm?”

Laughing, you rolled him to his back and straddled his abs. “Well, I may have been missing you a little.”

“Only a little?”

Smirking, you leaned closer till your breasts brushed over his chest, causing a pleased hum to rumble in his throat. “Maybe more than a little.”

You were just about to kiss him, Steve’s hands massaging your ass, getting ready for round two when you felt it. A hum of static in the air. Your groan turned swiftly into a growl of annoyance.

“What? What is it?” Steve had long since stopped second guessing what you knew in advance of him.

“The bifröst is opening.” Sighing, you flopped down on top of Steve like a limp noodle.

His arms immediately went around you. “I won’t let them bully you.”

“Steve…”

“No.”

Sighing, you tucked your face against his throat. “It’s been a month.”

“Not long enough.”

“Thor did apologize before he went home. He didn’t mean to upset me.”

“Loki didn’t.”

There was a distinct note of annoyance in Steve’s voice. “And he won’t. It’s Loki.” An apology from Loki would be a long time in coming. He would rather make a peace offering, a grand gesture, than every say he was sorry.

“I don’t like how they tried to guilt you into returning to Asgard.”

“You made that perfectly clear.”

“Hm. I hope so,” he huffed.

Kissing his jaw, you made to sit up only to find yourself stuck. “Let me up, Steve.”

“Three days.”

You could hear the pout in his voice, feel it through his touch. “I know, _sjelevenn._ ”

“Stay.”

“If it’s Loki, he’ll come looking for me.”

Steve rolled you beneath him. “Then he’ll learn to wait.”

“He’s not good with waiting,” you snickered.

“He’ll learn.”

When the length of Steve’s erection nudged insistently at your thigh, you smiled. “Yeah, I guess he will.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: none
> 
> Song: Rainbow by Kesha

## Chapter Six

 

* * *

When you and Steve finally did emerge from the confines of your suite, you walked hand in hand into the common area to find an irate Loki waiting. You knew well in advance he was annoyed as the sparks and surges of his power were tangible on the air.

“I have better things to do than wait on you, (Y/N)!”

“Like what?” you asked, smile smug.

Steve snickered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I'll be back after the debriefing.” His attention shifted to Loki. “Do not upset her again.”

“Or what, Captain?”

“Or I'll make what Bruce did to you look like child's play in comparison.”

Before things could degenerate into a testosterone-fuelled pissing contest, you patted Steve’s butt, gave him a look, and sent him on his way. “Go. We'll be fine.”

“Baby,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you with far more heat than required.

By the time he finished, you were one nip short of dragging him back to the bed with the rumpled sheets barely cooled from the last time you'd set them on fire. “Go away, Stevie.”

“You sure you mean that, dollface?” he chuckled happily, gripping your hips and dragging you closer.

Smirking up at him, you nodded though you hooked your fingers in the collar of his shirt. “Go play with Bucky for a while after the debriefing if you’ve still got energy to work off.”

“Three days, (Y/N). I’d rather play with you.”

“Later.” You hummed appreciatively when his hands squeezed your waist.

With a small sigh, he bussed you a kiss to the cheek, sent a glare toward Loki, and let his hands slide away with a caress far more sensual than it should have been. “Be good.”

“But I like being bad so much more,” you called after him before finally turning your attention to Loki.

“I dislike being made to wait.”

“Don’t pout, _ugagn._ It will give you wrinkles.” Lifting your chin, you wandered off to get a coffee, finding your muscles pleasantly sore in all the right places, and in need of the caffeine to help keep you awake seeing as how the rush of pleasant endorphins from early had ebbed, making you sleepy.

“And must you be so, _ugh_ , public with your affection? I know he is your _sjelevenn_ , but you appear as rutting Bilgesnipes with your handling of each other. It is bad enough you wear his brand upon your throat.”

“Oh?” you popped your lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Is wittle Woki jealous?”

“Hardly!” he scoffed. “Thinking of your sex life is like imagining Thor’s. I have no desire to know about either.”

Grinning wickedly, you collected a cup. “So I shouldn’t mention the bite mark on my ass?”

“Most definitely not!”

The disgust in his voice only egged you on. “Really? It’s quite tender, but when Steve gets going it’s nearly impossible to-”

His hand closed firmly over your mouth. “ _Lillesøster_ you talk too much.”

You licked the palm of his hand causing him to release you with an undignified yelp. “And yet you keep coming back.”

Wiping his hand on your shoulder, he sneered at you, but there was little heat in the words which followed. “Odin only knows why. You are beyond exasperating and at times quite disgusting.”

“Aww, you flatterer.” With a wink, you returned to pouring the coffee.

“I can do that for you if you need,” he offered quietly, looming suddenly at your elbow.

Hip bumping him gently to give you room, you shook your head. “You’ve missed out, Loki. I’ve learned a lot since you flounced off to Asgard in a huff.”

“I did not flounce, nor did I huff. I left for I was not wanted.”

Putting the pot back, you were careful to set the cup down before punching him in the shoulder hard enough to send him careening into the sofa at his back.

“Stop being a dick,” you huffed, glaring at him. “You deserved to get scolded, and scolded was all it was. You were an ass, both of you were, putting something like that on me at a time like this.”

He straightened from the sofa with an air of regret, holding out his hands. “You’re right.”

“I know I am.” Chin up, you glared down your nose at him.

“I brought you something. A peace offering, if you will.”

Rolling your eyes, you returned to your cup. It wasn’t like you hadn’t expected it. “You can’t buy your way out of being an asshole, Loki. You push and push and push. This time, Steve pushed back. He has the power and the balls to do so in this life, being as he hasn’t been taught from birth to kowtow to the _gods_ of Asgard.”

“I would almost be offended if I didn’t know you so well, darling,” he muttered.

“I’m not trying to offend you. I’m giving you a warning you should heed.”

He approached as if you were a wild animal, slowly with outspread hands which he brought up to gently cup your face. “I know, _lillesøster_. These past years without you have been… difficult.”

“Difficult? _That_ is what you call blowing up most of New York?”

“Not my finest hour,” he admitted quietly. “I wish you had been there… to talk me out of it.”

“I wish you hadn’t been so foolish to need me to do so.”

“You’ve always been the only one who could keep me in check.”

He was not going to let you indulge in your coffee until you’d had this out. Reaching for his wrists, you held them gently, breathing in the scent of leather which seemed to perfume the air around him even over the scent of the expensive suit he was wearing. You’d wandered through Tony’s wardrobe often enough to know Armani when you smelt it.

“I shouldn’t have had to check you back, not for something like that. Oh, Loki… what were you thinking?”

Your heart gave a pained thump when his forehead dropped to yours. “I… I don’t know anymore. There was so much… _anger_ inside me.”

“And now?”

“I have come to terms with things.”

“I would hope so,” you said, giving a small smile. “I’d hate to have to kick your ass to knock some sense into that fool head of yours.”

“Darling… I’d like to see you try.”

Quick as a snake, you were kneeling on his chest, the blade he kept tucked at the small of his back now pressed lightly against his throat. “You were saying?”

“Impressive.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

A flurry of hands followed as you fought him for the dagger, rolling and scraping on the floor until you came up victorious a second time. The tip of the blade now pointed at a part of his anatomy you knew he was disinclined to lose.

“Yield.”

“I don’t want to,” he grumbled.

You dug the dagger in a little deeper and cocked a brow in warning.

“Okay, okay! I yield!”

“As you should.” With a wide grin, you gave him a saucy wink and got back to your feet.

“Is this a regular thing you used to do, (Y/N)?” Natasha asked from the doorway. “Kick a little godly ass.”

Looking up, you held your hand down for Loki, who took it and eased himself from the floor to stand a step behind you. “He’s a fun sparring partner when he’s not trying to kill you. You should give him a go.”

“While I am certain Ms. Romanoff is quite talented, she has not your level of skill, (Y/N). Add in the grudge she continues to hold against me, and I would not put it past the Widow to try and take revenge.”

“You got that right, horned wonder,” Natasha scoffed.

Holding up your hands, you stepped between them even though they were nowhere near each other. “Nat, please. Loki, would you give us a minute?”

“You put me off again?” he muttered, annoyed.

“Please?” you asked, laying a hand on his chest. “Meet me by the doors, and we’ll take a walk outside. The grounds can sometimes still give me trouble.”

“Hm,” he huffed. “Very well, but do not take long.” His hand landed on your arm, stroking unseen down to your fingers before he walked away.

Turning to face Natasha, you made your way over to her. Past chairs and around tables, you arrived at her side and reached for her hands. “I know this is difficult.”

“Do you?” she asked, irritation lacing her tone.

“Yes, yes I really do. But do you understand what this is like for me? I _know_ him! I know who he is, was, and could be. I have lived _hundreds_ of years with him as close to me as a brother as close as Clint is to you! What’s been done can’t be undone, but please, Nat! Give him a chance to redeem himself. He’s not the monster he tried to be. He’s not.”

“And maybe a thousand years have changed him into someone you don’t know anymore. Did you think about that?”

“I did. I have, but he’s still Loki. The boy who taught me to throw a dagger. The boy who played pranks with me on Thor. The boy who showed me magic when I was sad and took me to see his mother’s rose garden. We got in trouble together so often, Odin swore half his grey hair was my doing. He’s my _brother_ , Natasha, and I love him. I would trust him with my life, no different than Steve.”

“You can say that after all the times he turned on Thor? Betrayed his actual brother?”

Releasing her hands, you stepped back. “I make no excuses for Loki. He was hurt and hurt others in return, but he would never betray me. Not ever. He was there for me when my mother passed, and I was so destroyed I thought I would die. He came to me when Helgi… when…” You turned away, unable to speak the words. “He was there till the end.”

“(Y/N)...” Natasha clasped your shoulder as you swiped away an unwanted tear.

“You don’t understand what it’s like to be _sjelevenn_. You may see a part of it because of Steve and my relationship, but the ties that bind us… you just don’t know. Loki does. He’s my family, Natasha, even more so than Thor. I had no siblings, never have as a Valkyrie, but I always had Loki.”

“Don’t you call the other Valkyrie your sisters?” she asked, voice curious and without malice.

You smiled sadly over your shoulder. “There is a difference between words spoken and feelings. They may be my _sisters_ in name, but I have always been their Queen. Even those closest to me were more subject than friend.”

Her eyes widened, but before she could say any more, you stepped out from beneath her hand and trailed after Loki. Whether your words would sway anyone’s opinion of him, you had no idea, but if you could change even a smidgen of Natasha’s, reduce some of the hostility between her and the God of Mischief, then you would be happy.

Waiting at the door for you, you noted the frown which had turned to a scowl with your arrival. “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. She upset you. If your Captain takes his displeasure out on me, I will make sure to pass it on to Ms. Romanoff.”

“I’ll handle Steve. You just keep your nose clean and out of trouble. I’m tired of defending you to everyone all the time.” Throwing another punch, you hit him in the same spot as before. “You just had to go and be you on crack, didn’t you, you overpowered magician!”

“Ow!” he barked, rubbing his arm vigorously. “When did you become so violent?”

“I’ve always been violent!” Shooing away his hands, you threaded your arm through his elbow.

“I’m of half a mind to walk you into a hole.”

“I’m blind, but not that blind,” you grumbled.

“A tree branch, then. Right into a low hanging one that will smack you quite firmly in the face.”

“Don’t be mean, Loki.” Not that he could. You’d notice it coming long before he succeeded.

“You are the one who is hitting,” he grumbled.

“You are the one who deserved it.” Smiling, for you'd missed this, the banter between the two of you, you leaned your head against his shoulder. “I missed you, Loki.”

His arm slipped from yours to wrap around your waist. “A thousand years, Sváfa. That's a thousand years too long.”

“Have you been digging, _ugagn_?”

“As much as I could without arousing suspicion.”

“And?”

He sighed. “You Valkyrjur are a secret lot. The temple is forbidden to the likes of me. Thor has made enquiries, but even he has been rebuffed.”

“And Odin?” The sound of his teeth grinding together had you pausing. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Thor and I decided not to say anything. If he knew… you know what he would do.”

“You honestly think the All-father doesn't know?” It made you snicker.

“He isn't who he once was. His power wanes.”

“Is that why I dream of him, then?”

“What?” Loki gasped, turning toward you.

Sighing softly, you stepped into him, resting your ear against his chest. “He calls to me.”

“He asks you to come home?”

You laughed softly. “Asks. You're funny.”

“You haven't told your _sjelevenn,_ have you?”

“Steve knows.” You snuggled deeper into the warmth he exuded. He wasn't Steve warm by any means, but his arms around you were still comforting with the fall winds bringing cooler temperatures. “We don't have secrets, Loki.”

“But if Odin calls…”

“I am nothing if not stubborn. I’m not ready.”

His nose tucked into your hair as he held you, quiet for a long moment before speaking. “Will you ever be?”

“I don't know,” you sighed.

“I can't go another thousand years without you in my life Sváfa.”

“Loki.” Tears pricked your lids.

“The time grows near when I must return to Asgard. Do you want your present or not?” he asked abruptly, changing the subject when the tone grew heavy.

“Always. You know I like presents.” Sniffling back the tears, you pushed from his chest.

The heavy weight settled magically around your shoulders. The scent of fur, wool, and home filled your nose as softness tickled your cheek. Rubbing your face on the thick pelt, you drew Tove’s cloak closed and shut out the fall wind with ease.

“Before you yell at me, I left a copy in its place. No one will know it's gone.”

Bringing the thick, lush collar to your nose, you inhaled deeply. The meadow of the pegasi still clung to it — the scent of Alpine snows. The odour of the Marok Wolf from which the pelt came, muted now with time and age had an image of sharp teeth and snarling muzzle flashing in your mind.

“Is it the same?” you asked softly, unable to pull your mind from the memories the cloak invoked.

“The colour has faded with age.” His hand skimmed down the once dove grey wool. “This is nearly white now, a pearlescent cream. The fur, though, is still the steel grey and white brindle it has always been.”

Running your hand clad in metal over your shoulder and the thick fur, you could almost feel the magic of your first mother resonate between the two cherished items. “Thank you, Loki.”

“I have this for you as well.” Magic crackled in the air before the metal helmet slipped over your brow.

The comfortable fit showed it too had once been yours, fitting as it always had, a perfect circlet and your battle helm. The metal browband dropped down into a point between your eyes, wrapping back to protect your temples where flared wings rose. Lifting your hand, you touched the crest which rested in the center of your forehead, announcing your status in the royal house for those who knew what it meant.

“Loki… what game is fate playing with me?”

“I do not know, Sváfa.” He shook his head, for once as concerned as you were. “But if I were to return to you, your armour and your sword were to lie balanced in your hand, as perfect a fit as your helm, would that not show you where you belong?”

“I belong with Steve.” Reaching up, you made to remove the helmet only to have his hands stall yours.

“Could not the reason you _sjelevenn_ is what he is, a super soldier of renown, be because you will need his strength on Asgard?”

“Loki…” you sighed, tired of this never-ceasing conversation.

“Just think about it, darling. Fate has taken a hand, given you a _sjelevenn_ with more power than ever before. Placed you in a group which would stand with you should you need them. You have more strength at your back than ever before. If this is Gunborg’s doing, if she is somehow the cause of your life being thrown out of balance, then what better place for you to end up but with the Avengers?”

You blinked at him, shocked by his words and the passion in them. “How foul did that taste coming out of your mouth?”

He chuckled before sweeping you up into a tight hug. “You know me too well.”

“Even if that is the case… I would still face challengers because of my disability, Loki.”

“You would face one. One Valkyrie. Once you showed you are still Sváfa, daughter of Tove, Queen of the Valkyrjur, none would dare question you. You would be even more respected because you had overcome a challenge none before you had to face.”

“Still… I am not ready, Loki. I’m getting better, but I need more time.”

“Time is a fickle thing,” he said, pulling back. “No matter how much we have, it never seems to be enough.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: swearing
> 
> Song: I’ll Be by Edwin McCain

## Chapter Seven

* * *

Two more weeks passed in relative peace before chaos, coming again in the form of an Asgardian surprise, broke over your head and rained down trouble.

You and Matt had moved on to weapons, and when he handed you the sparing sticks you’d had such a rush of energy pour through you, you’d given an undignified and high pitched giggle of excitement. He’d been working you hard ever since, pushing you to grow stronger, more accurate, and playing music at decibels which made your head ring, purposely making it difficult to hear him.

Today, though, Steve and Bucky had come to watch as you and Matt went at it. Matt had asked them to be loud, obnoxious, scream and cheer and catcall, whatever it took to try and throw you off your game, for in the past two days you’d learned to hear beneath the music. You’d found the pattern in the tones and had figured out how to slip under them to find Matt.

But damn if having the guys there to distract you wasn’t working.

When you connected hard with the floor, knocking the wind out of your lungs for the third time, you stayed down and frowned at the ceiling.

“C’mon, doll face. You’re not quitting on us, now, are you?” Steve crouched next to you, his hand coming to rest on your heaving diaphragm.

“Not hardly, Rogers. I’m just figuring shit out.”

Matt’s presence at your side had you looking toward him. “You remember when we first met, and I helped you tune out the noise?”

“Yeah. That’s what I’m trying to do now.”

“Stop trying.”

“Huh?” you asked.

“Stop _trying_. You already know how. You do it a thousand plus times a day now. This is no different. You need to let it become instinctual. You _know_ what to do, so just do it!”

With a determined growl, you slammed your hands into the mat and kicked up to your feet, taking your sticks with you. “Alright, Matty. Let’s do this.”

Steve backed off, and this time when the whistling, shouting, and inappropriate comments began - Bucky earning himself a smack to the back of the head via Steve when the soldier took it too far - you breathed out and found your focus.

The extra noise faded into the background. Bucky’s bellowing became nothing more than a deep murmur. When Steve whistled it barely even register. But the sound of Matt’s boot scuffing the ground cocked your head.

There was a tiny jump in his heart, giving him away right before he made to act. It came along with the change in the air pressure. Sticks swept up, down, and you stepped out of the way. One came for your head, the other your thigh. Your arms swept up in defense, striking both weapons away.

A smirk twitched Matt’s lips. “Good.”

“Bring it, Matty,” you said softly, feeling for the first time in weeks like yourself again. Like your true self. Like you’d reconnected with you Valkyrie self.

The blows came, swift and powerful. Both feet and fists flashing. The sticks cracked together. Matt’s breathing grew laboured as you settled into yourself. But the fight was off. The stick in your shield hand felt… wrong.

Flipping it over in a free moment, you brought it to bare as if you wore your shield. The grip of your sword hand changed and _freedom_ snag in your blood, a song of valor and victory long forgotten.

***

Steve and Bucky slowly fell into silence, the awe of what they were witnessing making them mute. (Y/N) was using one stick as a shield, the other appearing like a sword.

She’d disconcerted Matt. No longer was this the exceptional blind lawyer fighting the newly blinded SHIELD agent. This was Daredevil facing off against the Valkyrie Queen.

And a Queen she was proving to be. A fucking badass Queen. “Holy… shit,” Steve breathed out in shock.

“Well… she did try and tell us.”

Steve couldn't tear his gaze from the woman before him to even glance at Bucky. “Fuck that's…”

“Hot.”

Steve punched Bucky in the ribs without looking. “It’s like watching… Gladiator or something.” He’d never seen her move with such grace, such power. He could nearly see her, bedecked in armor, slicing her way through a battlefield.

She flowed, bending and twisting, dropping to a knee to avoid Matt’s blows. Her shield arm took a hard crack that barely phased her. Something had changed in those few seconds when she’d centered herself.

It was awe inspiring.

A few moments later she put Matt on his ass and dropped the end of her makeshift sword to his throat.

Steve had to clear his throat and fight hard not to shift himself in his suddenly tight pants.

“I did it!” she squealed, jumping to her feet only to have Matt swipe his leg around and take her feet out from under her, sending her crashing to her back. “Damn it, Matt! You were dead!”

“Dead is a relative term in this world,” he chuckled, sitting up and patting her knee.

“I should kick you in the head.”

“You could try.”

“You’re awfully cocky for someone who just had his ass handed to him.”

The smile on Matt’s face grew as he pulled off his mask. “You did real well, (Y/N). Real good.”

“I felt good, like… before,” she said, shoving her blindfold up to rest like a bandana in her hair.

Bucky started forward. “Damn, doll face! That was some serious skills you just showed off. When can I get a turn?”

“Stand in line, Barnes. She’s my girl.” He gave Bucky a shove, arriving at (Y/N)’s side and holding down his hands.

She switched both sticks to one before grabbing onto his and letting him draw her up into his embrace.

“Baby, that was… so incredible.”

Her hand skimmed up to wrap at the back of his neck. “Yeah? Did I impress you, _sjelevenn_?”

“More than impress,” he said, drawing her in tighter, letting her feel what she did to him.

“And that’s our cue to leave,” Bucky huffed, hauling Matt to his feet. “C’mon, Murdock. I’ll buy you a beer.”

“Sound’s good, Barnes.”

The two walked away, but Steve paid them no mind, far too wrapped up in his girl. “You looked...”  he couldn’t find the right words and settled for tugging the band from her hair in order to thread his fingers through it instead.

“Are you speechless, Steve?” she asked, smirking and fluttering her lashes.

“You’ve got me tongue-tied, doll. Like when I was still a little guy trying to talk to a fancy dame.”

“Oh, _fancy,_ am I?”

“Sweetheart… you’re the fanciest dame I know.”

She sighed and applied pressure to the back of his neck. “Is that a complement?”

Instead of answering, he leaned down and took her mouth in a soft kiss, one full of love and perhaps a bit of the awe he was still feeling. The gentle parting of her lips was an invitation he sank into. Her quiet sigh did nothing to help the hard on he was trying to control.

When they broke moments later, his hand had found its way to her jaw where his thumb continued to gently caress her soft skin.

“You looked like a Queen, a warrior, a _Valkyrie_ today. Today I could see it. I could see it,” he whispered, resting his forehead for a moment against hers before shifting to place small kisses on her cheek, leading back to her ear. “I have never in my life willingly knelt before a ruler, never thought I would, but for you, _min vakre skjoldpike_ , for you… I would.”

Her sticks hit the ground with a clatter when she dropped them to throw her free arm around his neck. “I’d never ask it of you.”

“I know. That’s why I’d do it.”

A smile twitched her lips. “You know… _technically_ you’re also royalty.”

“Yeah right,” he scoffed.

“No, no. Now wait a minute. In our first life together you were the son to the king of Sváfaland, our neighbor to the north. If your father was a king, then you would be…” she let the words hang.

“A prince.” Steve wondered if his eyes were as big around as they felt.

“There you go!” Laughing, she hooked her heel behind his knee and took them both to the ground.

Though Steve landed heavier than he would have liked, he wasn’t about to complain when he ended up beneath his woman with her sitting astride his abs.

“Should I tell you the story of our first meeting?” she asked, fingertips lightly dancing over his chest.

“If you want to, darlin’.”

She smiled, her face taking on a faraway expression. “There were nine of us riding that day. Four seasoned Valkyrie and five maidens.”

“Maidens?”

“Those who have not yet returned a soul to Valhalla are considered maidens. Not yet tested in battle.”

“Ah,” Steve murmured, sliding his hands up her thighs in a slow caress.

“There were nine of us out riding, flying the pegasi around the borders of my father’s lands, when I saw you sitting upon a hill. I knew who you were, the silent son of King Hjörvarðr and Queen Sigrlinn of Sváfaland.”

“Why was I the silent son?” he asked, curiosity growing with every word she spoke.

She stroked her hand down his chest before trailing her fingers back up, drawing symbols and pictures over him and he wondered if they were runes, if she was working some magic he knew nothing about for he was certainly caught in her spell.

“It was said you did not cry at your birth. You were a silent babe, easily appeased and unlikely to fuss. Your mother feared there was something wrong with you, so she sought the help of a seer and asked what she should do. “The child will be silent, grow into a silent man, until the one who will name him comes.” So she returned home, and refused to allow the King to give you a name.”

“Quiet, nameless, and the son of a king? Sounds worse than being little Steve. Least then I had a mouth on me. Got me into trouble, but I spoke out for others.”

Her smile was soft but teasing. “You were a quiet man, Steve. That did not mean you were silent when it mattered. You were a _warrior_! Strong, brave, and so very powerful. I saw you sitting upon that hill and nothing was going to stop me from speaking with you.”

“Not even your sisters?”

“Especially not them. I sent them off, landed near you, and joined you on the rock. You’d gotten to your feet by then, wary of a Valkyrie, and even more so of me, but I wanted only to sit and know the man with the hair like sunshine and eyes of sky. Your armor gleamed,” her palms pressed against his pectorals, “silver and polished. You cloak,” her hands skimmed up to his shoulders, “was that of a Marok Wolf, but it was such a pure black, there was not a single speck of white in the pelt. A very rare find. The wool was a blue so dark, it nearly matched the fur. You were a giant of a man, and I knew, flames of Valhalla, I _knew_ you were mine. “Why are you brooding alone on this hill?” I asked you, and do you know what you said?”

Steve shook his head, enthralled with her story. It felt… familiar, and he knew it was his soul remembering even if his brain didn’t.

She bent down and crossed her arms over his chest to lean against him. “You said, “I wait for the one who will give me a name.” And I laughed as I stood to my feet and spread my arms wide,” she sat back and held her arms out. “Here I am! And you shall be Helgi for not only are you a blessing from the gods but from now on you will have nothing but joy.”

Sitting up, Steve made sure she slid gently into his lap. “And did I take you in my arms?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

“Did I kiss you?” he asked, mouth hovering so close to hers.

“Yes,” she whispered, wrapping her arms behind his neck.

“And did you like it?”

“I loved it, for you were my _sjelevenn_. My one and only. I was going to spend every minute of every day by your side.”

“I had a dream… about a sword,” Steve confessed. “A sword wrapped in snakes and covered in runes.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “It was my gift to you with your newly-given name. It was tradition.”

“I didn’t just want the sword, did I?” The dream had come to him only the night before, but he had thought nothing of it until her tale began.

“No,” she whispered, carding her fingers through his hair. “You said you wanted nothing if you could not have me, as well. When I explained you were my _sjelevenn_ , you agreed to the sword. You said, you would need it to keep me safe from harm. But I was your shield, always there for you, fighting side by side.”

“And you will be again. After what I saw today, you are going to be formidable.” Unable to contain himself any longer, Steve ducked his head and kissed her with all the love in his heart.

She gave a wanton moan and rocked her hips against his, causing Steve to press her harder against him with the hand he held at her low back.

“ _Sjelevenn_!” she whined when he released her lips to trail kisses down her throat.

“Want you, doll face. Right here, right now,” he murmured urgently.

“Yes! Yes, Steve, please!” she begged.

He reached for the hem of her t-shirt only to be stopped short when the return of running feet had him pausing.

She held still, listening intently. “That’s Matt. Something’s wrong!”

Scrambling, they got quickly back to their feet as Murdock slammed through the hallway door.

“You two need to come back right now!” Matt said, panting for breath.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Steve asked, taking (Y/N) by the hand.

“Not wrong so much as… surprising,” he said, which did nothing to settle the feeling of foreboding in Steve’s chest.

“Matt? Just tell us what it is?” (Y/N) asked, letting Steve lead for which he was grateful.

“This is a see it, or in our case, sense it to believe it thing. Just hurry.”

The frown never left his face as Steve shoved open the outer door and stepped through, only to come to a dead stop when his girl failed to exit the building. “Baby?”

“That… that smell. I know that smell.” She let go of his hand and was running for the compound in seconds, Steve hot on her heels.

The forest tripped her up enough to keep her speed down, but not by much, and they had quickly outdistanced Murdock.

When she finally did slow to a walk, Steve took her by the arm. “Baby? What is it? What do you smell?”

“Dust on a warm hide. The wind through feathers. Clouds and a meadow between mountain peaks.”

“What?” he asked, as they cleared the last layer of trees.

Her hand lifted, finger pointing, and he turned to look only to have his jaw nearly smack the ground. “Holy… holy… wow…”

“Steve…” she whispered, fear in her voice. “Tell me there isn’t a four-legged, flying equine standing on the lawn of the Avengers compound.”

“Yeah… I can’t do that, doll.”

She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, took another and screamed at the top of her lungs, “LOKI!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: swearing
> 
> Song: My Silver Lining by First Aid Kit

## Chapter Eight

* * *

His girl stood panting at his side, hands clenched, and chest heaving after screaming for the trickster god. But Loki did not appear to smirk and tease or flinch beneath her anger.

The stallion - for it had to be a stallion with its sheer size and muscle tone - took exception to the loud noise by rearing up and bellowing out a god awful sound. Enormous wings spread wide, so wide they seemed to block out the sun. When he dropped back to his hooves, he dug at the grass and snorted his contempt, tossing his mane and making it billow in the light wind.

“Oh, shut up,” (Y/N) huffed, striding forward and avoiding Steve’s hand when he reached for her. “Where is he?”

“Baby? Who are you talking to?” Steve asked, eyeing the stallion, but keeping pace with his girl.

“Him!” She waved at the horse. “Where is that no good, shiny horned, mischief-making, _man-child_!”

The horse’s wings snapped out a second time, and he half-reared, popping his front feet off the ground.

Steve grabbed his girl by the waist and jerked her back, out of the way of those flashing feet. “Easy,” he called to the horse, holding one hand out and keeping his voice calm. “Easy, big fella.”

“Steve, he’s not going to hurt me. He’s just being petulant,” she grumbled. She tugged at his arm until he reluctantly unwrapped it.

“You don’t know that.”

Steve glanced toward Bucky, standing a few yards away from the stallion, staring at the equine from a safe distance.

“Yeah, Buck. I do.” (Y/N) gave a sharp sigh and walked toward the animal again. “Steve?”

“Darlin’?”

“What colour is he?”

He paced her, staying close enough to protect her should the animal, now much calmer and peering at her quizzically with forward pricked ears, prove dangerous. “He’s black.”

Her hands scrubbed down her face when she came to a stop no more than a foot from the steed. She stood just off to his side, close to his shoulder and within his line of sight. From there, Steve played witness to the strangest conversation he’d ever been party to.

“Where is he?” she muttered, propping her fists on her hips and glaring at the stallion.

The horse shook his head.

“Don’t give me that! I know Loki brought you. Is he too chicken shit to stand here and face me?”

A blast of air vibrated the horse’s nostrils.

She frowned. “What do you mean you came on your own? Why?”

There was an excessive amount of head bobbing, odd little wickers, and more digging at the ground, lasting long enough for quite a crowd to form at a safe distance.

When he finished, (Y/N) sighed and stepped forward to lay her hand on his sleek hide. “I’m sorry I yelled, but you really shouldn’t be here.”

He snorted, the sound dismissive.

“What do you mean no one knows you exist?” she gasped, jerking back to look at him.

The dark muzzle lifted to nudge at her shoulder and lip at her hair while more whickers rumbled in his chest.

“I don’t understand. How’s that even possible?”

The large head curved over her shoulder, a strange sort of hug that, for some bizarre reason, made Steve a little jealous when she slipped her arms around his neck and rested against his broad chest. The metal of her gauntlet flashed in the sun as she threaded her fingers through his mane.

“Baby?” Steve finally interjected when the silence stretched on. He stepped forward, reached for her shoulder, and was greeted by snapping teeth and another bugle of warning.

“Shit!” Only his super soldier reflexes saved him from a nasty bite.

“Hey!” (Y/N) barked, smacking a hand against the stallion’s throat. “I am not your mare!”

Angry dark eyes swung her way, and the stallion gave her a hard shove with his nose, earning himself a flick to his tender muzzle.

“Oh, no you don’t! You don’t get to push me around.”

He nodded his head, a whinny causing his nostrils to flutter.

“I am too taken! By him! I’m his mare!” she snapped.

She pointed at Steve, and he had to bite his cheek not to burst out laughing. “Does that make me a stud?”

“You already know that answer,” she quipped, tossing Steve a grin before reaching out to grip the stallion by his whiskered chin. “Behave. He’s my _sjelevenn_.”

When she held out her opposite hand, the one wrapped in metal, Steve reached out and took it even as the stallion looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t,” (Y/N) said, tugging his whiskers, likely feeling the tension rolling off the creature. “Steve, hands on his shoulder.”

The nearest wing ruffled. Big and wide, Steve knew he’d take quite the tumble if the stallion decided to smack him with it. Still, he trusted her to know what she was about, even if he hadn’t a clue what was going on.

Hands connecting with warm muscle, Steve inhaled the scents she’d mentioned. Dust on a warm hide. Wind through feathers. The ozone of clouds and the scents of a meadow he imagined was, as she’d said, between high mountain peaks. It felt like silk, the stallion’s hide, and he didn’t need to be encouraged to slide his hand down the heavily muscled shoulder. When she released his other one, he used both to touch the creature out of legend whose skin twitched beneath his fingers.

“See,” she said softly, lightly petting the animal’s nose, “he has a gentle hand. You can trust Steve. He’s mine, as you are mine.”

“Sweetheart?” Steve murmured just as quietly, shifting his hand to touch the feathered appendage because, _god_ , how he wanted to. “I need you to start talking now.”

***

You sighed, continuing to pet the velvet-soft nose of the Pegasus who’d found you. “This is _Hemmelighet_. It means secret like kept in secret. He’s been hiding in the mountains of the Valkyrjur for over a century.”

“Why?” Steve asked, his touch making _Hemmelighet_ ’s wing droop as the stallion relaxed.

You knew well the effect Steve’s strong hands could have on someone. “Pegasi are usually grey. A dappled coat. Some slip fully into white, but only the rare few are black. My previous steed, _Svadil_ , was black, as was my mother’s, as was the original Queen of the Valkyrjur, the Goddess Freya’s. Throughout my lives as a Valkyrie, a black has always been waiting for me. When I walked to the field to collect my steed, it was always a black who would appear for we do not choose our mount. Our mount chooses us.”

It clicked for Steve before you could say anymore. “But you haven’t been returning, so he came to find you?”

“Yes, in a way. Pegasi live much longer than horses. They often outlive their rider. They spend a third of their life growing, learning and training from the old ones, no different than we do. The second third of their life is as a steed, flying into battle with their Valkyrie, and the final part is spent training the young and finding a pretty mare.” You stroked the black cheek and cooed softly when _Hemmelighet_ lipped at your hair. “Valkyrjur steeds are always stallions. The mares are just too precious, too rare to be put in that kind of danger.”

You stepped under the stallion’s chin to join Steve and lowered your voice to a near whisper. “I haven’t been reborn, but when, in the dark of a storm-wracked night the black foal was born, his dam, _Måneskinn,_ took him into the mountain. He said she was told by one who knew of such things, to take him away where he would never be seen. No one could know a black foal had been born, not even the other Pegasi. She was an older mare as it was, and all assumed she’d gone up to the mountains and passed on. She raised and trained him in secret until the rumour became a reality. She died not long ago.”

“How did he know to come here? How did he get here? You’re sure it wasn’t Loki or Thor’s doing?”

With a sigh, you wedged your body between his and the stallions and leaned against the latter, your cheek resting on warm hide. He was a big boy, quite a bit larger than your last mount, but you imagined that came from the harsh life the mountain living would have afforded him. There were meadows up there as well for those Pegasi brave enough to venture that high. From the feel of him, _Hemmelighet_ was very brave.

Steve’s hand went to your waist while the other continued to stroke through feathers, lifting the scent of sky and clouds into the air.

“He said he smelled me. Likely off Loki or Thor. They have both been to the temple, of which he is familiar, as well as to my former home where Loki stole my cloak.” 

“But how did he get here?” Steve asked, and you knew he was thinking about portals like the one Loki and Thor escaped through with Jane Foster.

“He’s a Pegasi. A Valkyrie steed can move between worlds with ease. They do not need portals or Bifrösts.”

Steve was quiet for a long moment before he murmured, “Who do you think hid him, to begin with?”

“If I had to guess?” You closed your eyes, pain rippling through your chest as you breathed out, “Frigga.”

“Loki and Thor’s mother?” he gasped.

“She had the sight. If she saw something or knew something…” A tear tracked your cheek that absorbed into the stallion’s hide.

“Baby,” he whispered, leaning down to place a kiss on your shoulder. “You miss her?”

“She was so kind, Steve. When Tove passed…” You shook your head. “If she suspected there was a problem with my journey, she would have been looking into it. I need to talk to Loki.”

But before you could call out for Heimdall, another voice shouted, “Oh, _hell_ no!”

You didn’t bother to lift your head, only passed a soothing hand over _Hemmelighet_ ’s shoulder when the stallion shifted restlessly. “Tony.”

“This is a military training facility! Not a barn!” he snapped.

That lifted your head. “He’s not some Midgardian horse, Tony!”

“He’s close enough!”

You couldn’t _see_ Tony over the back of _Hemmelighet_ , the Pegasus just too tall, so you ducked under his chin and found the angry Iron Man striding toward you. “He’s mine, Tony. I’ll find a place for him.”

“Four-legged, flying, manure makers do not belong on military bases!”

“You let Scott keep ants! And they have six legs!” Your chin lifted defiantly as Tony came to a halt before you.

“Valkyrie or not, you can’t keep a horse here!”

“He’s not a horse! He’s a Pegasus. If you keep calling him a _horse_ like he’s some low brow common pony, you’re going to offend him!”

That comment rocked Tony back on his heels. “Offended… him?”

“What? You think the steed of a Valkyrie is some easy to spook beast of burden? They’re warrior trained, battle-tested, and hardened no different than a Valkyrie is. We are the elite of Asgard for a reason, you know!”

_Hemmelighet_ ’s nose poked over your shoulder where he snuffled at Tony before sneezing and huffing out a sound of disgust. After, he relaxed onto three legs, ruffling his wing out so Steve could run his fingers through more of the feathers.

“He says you stink of oil and other disgusting human things.”

“He… I… what?” Tony asked, clearly confused.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Bucky called quietly, having made his way closer.

“Yeah, Buck?” You cocked your head his direction.

“Can I… touch?” he asked in a voice so full of hope and excitement you couldn’t help but hold out your hand.

You were fairly sure he shoved Tony on the way by, muttering, “Lighten the fuck up,” before taking your hand and letting you draw him toward _Hemmelighet_ ’s other shoulder.

“ _Hemmelighet_ , this is Bucky, our friend. Tony is also a friend and fellow warrior, even if he's a big butt head about it right now.”

“Hey!” Tony yelped.

You ignored him. Motioning to Matt, you drew him in as well to stroke _Hemmelighet_ ’s cheek.

You’d never known anything to shake Matt’s confidence, but the small amount of worry, concern, unknown, which rolled off the once Daredevil nearly made you smile. “It’s okay, Matty.”

“He’s a big boy,” Matt murmured, his hands barely making a sound when they moved down _Hemmelighet_ ’s throat his touch was so light.

“He is that,” you said proudly. “And doing very well considering he’s never met people before.”

“Really?” Bucky asked.

The increased scent of sky and cloud informed you he, too, had taken to gently stroking a wing.

“He’s lived a… sheltered life,” you explained softly. You would inform the others later of what _Hemmelighet_ had told you. What with all these witnesses around, there were far too many listening ears. “But he knows you are mine — my family. We are all friends and fellow warriors here, so he accepts you. Even when some of us are being old fuddy-duddies.”

Tony threw his hands up with an exasperated huff. “Fine! He can stay.”

“He wasn’t going anywhere anyway.” You stuck your tongue out at Tony. “I’ll get Loki to help settle him in. Heimdall!” you called out, tilting your head back, “Tell his horned highness his presence is requested!”

You could nearly hear the big golden guardian chuckle.

Tony fidgeted for a moment longer before finally huffing out a breath and asking, “So… can I have a turn?”

Your laughter rang loud and long into the air.

***

It took a while for Loki to arrive, allowing you the time to take your hands over the Pegasus. He was, as Matt had said, a big boy. He was a good six inches taller than your last steed, barrel-chested with a deep girth. His wings were long, the span stretching at least twelve feet. Wide and thick with long primary feathers, he wouldn’t have a problem travelling great distances. 

Upon further examination, you found his legs were thick, more in keeping with the draft quality of the original Pegasi, and not the thinner, lighter mounts of some of the _new_ generation to have come down the mountain. As you’d expected, he was the many times removed grandson of _Svaldi_. 

You had Steve describe the depth of his colour. As an artist, Steve had a knack for helping you imagine the true black of your stallion’s coat. Of how the feathers gleamed with blue and rippled with colour like oil on water. His eye was a rich deep brown, intelligent and, in Steve’s opinion, wise. 

It would take time to gain the same relationship you’d had with previous mounts, but all good things came to those who had the patience to work for them. And _Hemmelighet,_ starved for company, was turning out to be highly affectionate and kind of a big suck.

Loki’s snarky voice knocked you from your musings. 

“I can’t believe you thought _I_ had something to do with _this_ ,” Loki scoffed, flicking his hand toward _Hemmelighet_.

You arched a brow his direction. “Can you blame me, _ugagn_?”

He huffed, crossed his arms, likely pouting quite strongly, but he didn’t disagree with you.

You, however, were too tired to care. It had been an emotional and very long day. Between tapping into your inner Valkyrie, the memory of your initial meeting with Steve when he was Helgi, and now the arrival of _Hemmelighet_ , was it any wonder you were exhausted?

Loki had arrived and, as Bucky had put it, gaped like a fish at the big stallion standing on the Avengers lawn.

In that instant you’d known for certain he had no part in the Pegasus finding you. Which meant, unfortunately, fate was messing with you. There were things at play in your life, forces at work you could no longer deny. Ignoring them and pretending they didn’t exist was simply leaving you unprepared for whatever was coming.

You linked your hand through Loki’s elbow, tugging until he uncrossed his arms and let you sneak beneath his shoulder to wrap your arms around his waist. “Thank you,” you sighed, resting against his chest. When his arms came around you as well, you knew you were forgiven.

“Just remember this the next time you think I would play such a trick. I would never jeopardize your safety, _lillesøster_.”

The sigh you released was heavy. “I will, Loki.”

The two of you stood quietly together, him watching, you listening to Natasha and Wanda practically coo over the _pretty pony_. It made you smile for _Hemmelighet_ was enjoying the attention of the women. He whickered and lipped at their hair making Wanda laugh the high, musical giggle which was so rare.

Everyone was enthralled with the big stallion, and you could understand their fascination. He was a creature out of myths and legends — something no one would have ever expected to see in their real life. The entire team had eventually ended up following along as you and Loki talked about where would be the best place to house, _Hemmelighet_.

It was finally decided to tuck a barn back in the trees, away from the compound and easily hidden from anyone coming to the facility. _Hemmelighet_ was yours, and no one would take him from you.

Not that they could. Not that you thought they would try, but it was better safe than sorry.

Add in the fact you still didn’t know how the sacred scroll of your life fell into the hands of HYDRA if there were more conspirators on Earth as well as Asgard, the last thing you needed getting out was the existence of a black Pegasus in the realm of Midgard. That would bring the Valkyrjur down on your head in no time.

Among the trees, Loki had magicked a barn into existence, one of wood and stone walls. You could smell the wood and feel the coolness of the stones when you walked in through the door. The open stall had a thick layer of straw which intrigued _Hemmelighet,_ having never had such comforts before. There was a tub of fresh water, and a net of hay Loki said would renew on its own, as well as the bedding the big stallion had dug around in.

You were grateful to him for his thoughtfulness. It wasn’t as if these were the barns of the Valkyrjur. There weren’t young initiates to clean stalls or fetch and carry feed. And, while you could probably do it, having Loki magic made the whole works that much easier.

Loki had also changed a fair swath of grass around the barn to the meadow grass of home.

When Vision had questioned the action, wondering if introducing foreign plants into Earth’s ecosystem was a good idea, Loki had rolled his eyes, given an exasperated sigh and flicked his hand outward. A shield of gold crackled once then faded into nothingness. No seed, nor sprout, nor runner would escape the barrier he’d erected, keeping Midgard safe from the _invasion_ of Asgardian flora.

After, while the team gathered in the barn, and the rest of the staff had been shooed back inside with the strictest of orders to keep _Hemmelighet’s_ existence a secret, you’d explained what he was doing there, how, and why.

Worry had rolled of most off them in waves.

Now, with only Natasha and Wanda, Loki and _Hemmelighet_ – who was going to need a name the others could pronounce – you allowed yourself to wallow in the murmurs of the women’s voices, and the beating of Loki’s heart. Such calm was rare.

When the big stallion shook himself and dropped down to his knees to settle in the thick straw, you knew it was time to go.

“We should head back,” you said to the others.

Nat and Wanda turned to you, and you could almost feel the _prickly_ come off Natasha.

With a small sigh, you stepped out of Loki’s embraced to scratch _Hemmelighet_ between his ears, then linked your arm with Nat’s. To your surprise and pleasure, Wanda took Loki’s arm and started to chat up the shocked Asgardian, asking him about his magic and generally throwing Loki off his, often, too smooth stride.

You tried very hard not to chuckle.

“I keep thinking things have settled down. Then I look out the window, and you’re hugging a horse with wings while Steve and Bucky stare at you like you’re the damn fairy queen. Fuck!” Natasha snickered. “You _are_ the Valkyrie Queen! I should just start expecting weird shit to happen.”

“No. No more weird shit. I’d be happy if this was it,” you said, stepping beyond the barn’s opening and following the animated sound of Wanda’s voice.

Natasha was silent for a few paces before speaking again, a hardness coming to her voice. “I hope you know, even though I don’t much like the horned wonder, I will stand with you whatever comes. We all will.”

You smiled her direction and nodded. “I know, Nat.”

“Even I can see the difference in _him_.” She flicked her hand toward Loki. “He’s… nicer, even when he’s being snide.”

“I never said he wasn’t a shit; just he never used to be a _homicidal_ shit,” you snorted and tripped over your own feet, nearly falling on your face. If Nat hadn’t been there to catch you, you would have.

“Jeez! Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “A little dizzy is all.”

“When did you last eat?” she asked.

You could tell she was glaring at you. “This morning?”

She huffed out an exasperated sound, muttered something in Russian, and jerked you up so she could sling an arm around your waist. “C’mon. I’ll deliver you to your _sjelevenn_ , and we’ll see what he has to say about you not eating.”

“Nat, it wasn’t like I skipped a meal on purpose!” you sputtered as she dragged you through the door. “And I can walk. I was just a little dizzy.”

“You’re dizzy?” Steve was instantly across the room. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“She’s weak with lack of food, Cap. Comes from not eating since sometime this morning,” Natasha ratted you out.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Steve scolded, yanking you out of Natasha’s hold and into his own. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“For the love of Odin’s one eye!” you bellowed, bringing everyone in the immediate vicinity to a screeching halt. “I was busy, okay! It’s been a busy day, and I wasn’t hungry,” your stomach growled loudly, calling you out, “until right now.”

Steve bent at the knees, and your equilibrium shifted as you were none too gently thrown over his shoulder. “Then let’s feed you.”

“Steven!” you shrieked, slapping him sharply on a nicely rounded butt cheek.

“Don’t get frisky yet, doll face. Eat first. You’re gonna need your energy,” he quipped, and both Natasha and Bucky made gagging noises.

“Keep that shit for the bedroom, Rogers,” Natasha huffed, sliding away to lean up against Matt who’d arrived with Bucky.

“Yeah, pal. Dick in the pants till the door closes. Ain’t that what you used to tell me?”

You could hear the grin in Bucky’s voice. It twisted your features into a grimace. “Eww, Barnes. Just… eww.”

“Hey! He said it!” Bucky grumbled.

“That was Dum Dum Dugan, and you know it,” Steve said, banding his arm over your legs when you tried to kick him.

“Dum Dum?” Matt asked, clearly intrigued.

The sound of Bucky’s hand making contact with Matt’s shoulder made you wonder how hard Matt winced.

“C’mon, Murdock. You and I can buy Natalia a drink, and I’ll tell you what I remember from the Howling Commandos.”

You were just about to make a crack comment about old men and waning memories when a sound caught your attention. “Someone’s coming.”

“Huh?” Steve asked.

“Put me down, Steve. There’s a car coming up the drive. Fast. Sounds fancy.” Your feet hit the floor before you were even done speaking.

“Buck?” Steve murmured.

The cock of a gun being checked came from Bucky’s direction, and you pushed aside your hunger and exhaustion to focus on the world around you. “A sports car. Reckless driver.”

“Yeah,” Matt agreed, able to hear what you could now.

As a group, you headed toward the door just as the alarm for incoming company sounded. It was only a warning, a precaution, but they were unexpected and unannounced.

Two more weapons cocked. Steve, taking the one offered by Bucky, Nat tugging hers from the small of her back. Matt frowned, his body language changing. He disliked guns, but he wasn’t about to change anyone’s mind about their use here. Not after all the team had seen and done.

Wanda and Loki appeared as you reached the door, Wanda joining Bucky, while Loki tucked himself in beside you.

You were hemmed in between a god and a super soldier, and rolled your eyes at their overprotective nature but said nothing.

Once outside, you listened to the roar of the engine coming closer. “Ferrari?” you asked Matt.

“Lamborghini,” Matt corrected. “The pitch in the engine is lower, like a growl.”

You hummed softly in agreement and waited. With the speed they were travelling at, it didn’t take long for the car to make its way to the front of the building. A wall of red magic greeted the squeal of brakes and spray of gravel.

Wanda’s power had a very distinct feel and smell to it. There was always a sense of heat and a scent like roses burning. It was arid and sharp like the dessert, but somehow still floral. It was the scent of Wanda herself only less muted.

The car door opened. Shoes crunched on gravel as Wanda’s magic receded, having stopped everyone from getting showered in rocks. But when you tried to hear their heartbeat and discern the identity of the person getting out of the car… you couldn’t.

“What the hell…?” you whispered.

A sharp inhale had you turning your attention to Matt.

“Elektra?” he breathed, tension filling his body.

Nails drummed on the car’s roof before the door slammed shut. “Matthew.” Her voice rolled out, sultry and accented. European in origin you thought. “Did you miss me?”

Focused as you were, the smile she gave him sent a chill racing down your spine. It set your Valkyrie instincts ablaze with warning.

This was not going to end well.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Violence, swearing
> 
> Song: Your Heart Is As Black As Night by Melody Gardot

## Chapter Nine

* * *

The only sound to break the silence was the beating of seven hearts, the quiet wind through the leaves, and the gravel shifting beneath the feet of the woman whose chest remained empty. Her scent tickled your nose. Harsh enough to make you want to sneeze. Acrid and disgusting.

How could Matt stand it? She smelled like death.

Every part of you was on high alert, screaming in warning. This was not natural. This was wrong. She should not live. There was something about her which made the Valkyrie in you shriek and wail like a banshee.

You wracked your brain, trying to figure out what it was that so disconcerted you about her. What it was that saw you reaching for a sword you weren’t carrying. When the memory finally emerged, you didn’t hesitate to react.

Loki’s dagger, the long one he kept in his boot was in your hand, and you were in full rush across the gravel before anyone could stop you. Nothing more than a blur of motion, you had her spun around and bent backward over the car’s hood before she could react. The dagger pressed to her jaw kept her from fighting back.

“I know what you are,” you hissed, digging your knee into her thigh to keep her from bucking you off. “You may have hidden it from Matt, but you can’t hide it from me, _Ijå_!”

“(Y/N)! No!” Matt shouted, darting forward only to be slammed back by a wall of magic.

It’s cold forest and frost scent was all Loki. “ _Lillesøster._ ” Loki paced closer, but you didn’t pull your attention from the woman frozen beneath you. “Are you certain?”

Her stench couldn’t hide the waft of fear which lifted from her skin. The decaying smell made you want to gag. “I am.”

“What are you talking about!?” Matt bellowed, slamming his hands against Loki’s shield.

“She’s _Ijå,_ a scythe. One of the _Sjeletyv_. A cursed being worthy only of death.”

“No! No, you’re wrong! Elektra, tell her she’s wrong!” Matt shook his head, throwing himself against the barrier.

“I haven’t a clue what she’s talking about, Matthew,” Elektra said, her voice shaking slightly.

You weren’t buying it for a second. “You may have him fooled, but I know what you are. Soulless, heartless, cold-blooded. I won’t let you feed here.” Your dagger dug into her throat, and she cried out, her blood trickling down her skin.

“I came to see Matthew. That is all! I swear!”

“I don’t believe you,” you snarled, voice barely human. “You’re kind are an abomination. One I thought long gone from any realm. Tell me! How was it done?”

“I told you!” Matt cried, hands still pounding. “I told you. It was the Hand and the bones of the dragon. This isn’t her fault. Please, (Y/N)!”

“She’s lying to you, Matty! Whatever this _thing_ is, it isn’t your Elektra. Maybe she once was, but not anymore!” Your attention wavered for a moment, and she braced beneath you. “Don’t,” you warned her. “I have killed your kind before. I will gladly do so again!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! Someone, _please_! Get this crazy woman off me!”

“I do not think so,” Loki growled. “If she says you are _Sjeletyv_ , I believe her.”

“Someone want to enlighten the rest of us then?” Steve asked.

“Use your words, darlin’,” Bucky drawled.

You would have flipped him the bird, but you didn’t dare take your hands from _Elektra_. “She’s essentially a living dead.”

“Oh, my God! She’s a _zombie_?” Sam barked, having come through the door in time to hear your pronouncement along with Tony, Bruce, and Vision. “Man! Those things wig me out!”

“Not a zombie. No flesh-eating involved, and she can’t infect you by biting you.” Still, Sam’s words made you smirk a little grin. “She’s more vampire than zombie. She steals souls.”

“No,” Matt said, openly refusing to believe you.

“Does she eat, Matty? When she fights, does she _always_ kill at least one? Two? A dozen?”

“I… I don’t do that… anymore,” Elektra whispered, finally giving up the act. “Not since… leaving the Hand.”

You snorted in disgust. “I don’t believe you. You can’t just _stop_.”

“I did!” she cried. “When I almost died with Matthew I knew it had to end. So I curbed my appetite, learned to eat real food, and stopped killing people.”

You smiled sadly down at her. “It doesn’t work that way. You may make a day, a week, a month. You may last a year, but the hunger will build and then you will kill, you will feed, and the most likely target with be Matty!”

“I would never hurt Matthew!”

“You will feed yourself that lie until the moment you wake up, and he’s dead beside you.” You pressed the dagger higher, knowing you’d have to take off her head. It would be a mess with a dagger, and you missed your sword in that moment.

“Alright!” she barked, holding up her hand. “I taught myself to… _sip_ … from people. A little brush here, a little there, enough to keep me going but not kill them.”

“No, you are just stealing years off their lives to sustain yours.”

“Oh, please. Months at most. Who’s going to miss a few months? Add in real food again, and I’ve learned to sustain myself. I’m not hurting anyone.”

You wanted to punch your fist through her face. “Not hurting anyone? You hurt all of them! Every one of them! Every soul you _sip_ from becomes lost. They are incomplete and can’t ascend to their afterlife. Everyone you _consume_ disappears into eternity, never to find peace!”

“Mumbo jumbo, new age, bull shit. You know nothing of death and the afterlife!” she spat, finally fighting back, knocking your dagger from her neck and rolling from the car.

“Loki!” you snarled, “Sword!”

“Oh, how fun!” His delight had a wicked edge to it. A clap of his hands and a sword was singing through the air.

You plucked it from the sky and shivered with the wash of Loki’s magic over your body. The weight of your helm landed on your brow at the same time Tove’s cloak settled around your shoulders. You stroked sword and dagger together, creating sparks. “I am of the Valkyrjur. The souls of the righteous dead are my life and my calling. Do not speak of _souls_ to me, creature of darkness!”

She fell back, shock rippling over her. “Matthew!”

“(Y/N)… _please_ …”

It was Matt’s quiet plea which stayed your hand. You lowered the sword until the tip touched the gravel. “Because you are my mentor, Matt, I won’t kill her outright. Because you are my friend,” you looked his way, face hard and laced with warning, “I’ll tell you, you’re making a mistake saving her.”

He said nothing but the swift, erratic beating of his heart didn’t lie. Confusion and fear warred with his all-encompassing devotion to her. “Then it’s my mistake to make.”

It made you sigh, his inability to see past her façade, but there was nothing more you could do for him. He would see or not in his own time.

You made to walk away, return to Steve and give warning to the others but paused a final time to stare down Elektra. “The people of this place are under my protection. Touch them, _feed_ on a single one, and Matt will not stop my hand again.”

She glared at you, her anger growing, but it mattered not. No _Sjeletyv_ would ever best a Valkyrie. Never again. “Loki, let him go.”

The barrier around Matt fell. He rushed to Elektra whose crocodile tears were already sliding down her face.

With a growl you marched away, the grip you held on the sword never faltering even as you handed back Loki’s dagger. What hunger you’d felt earlier was gone, replaced by the sickness rolling in your belly. When you reached Natasha, you gripped her hand tightly and tugged her inside. “You need to get Bruce the hell out of here.”

“What? Why?” she asked, Bruce’s quiet voice seconding her questions.

You stomped toward the lounge, everyone hot on your heels. The sword in your hand was a heavy reminder of what you’d let come here. What you’d allowed to keep living. But Matt had asked for nothing in all this. He was your friend, damn near a brother. What could you do but step back?

“Fuck!” you snarled, striding into the lounge. It was empty, the newbies all out on assignment, thank Odin. But the rage inside you, the disquiet, the surging sea of anxiety, had to be released in some way before you screamed down the heavens, and you turned away from the others, let go of Natasha, and smashed the sword down on a nearby table.

It didn’t even splinter so sharp was the blade’s edge, but sliced through like butter causing it to fall into two pieces.

“(Y/N)!” Steve barked, leaping forward to seize you from behind. He closed his hand around your wrist in a grip tight enough to send the metal of your gauntlet digging into your flesh. “Let go!”

A Captain’s command, you let the sword clatter to the ground.

“What the hell was that?” he snapped, dragging you around to face the others.

“As the Asgardians natural enemy was once the Frost Giants,” Loki said quietly, “The Valkyrjur’s were the _Sjeletyv_. They are an abomination, a plague upon the realm. That one has shown itself here… I do not like this.”

Concern ran through the group.

“You can’t ever be alone with her,” you finally managed to say past your anger. “She’s powerful. I can feel it. She’s taken many lives to be what she is. I don’t know what her game is, but you, Bruce, can’t be here.”

“Why me?” he asked.

“The Hulk.”

“She can’t hurt the Hulk, (Y/N). And he doesn’t like her,” Bruce tried to assure you.

“You don’t understand.” You slumped in Steve’s hold, mind racing with the implications. “She’s a _Ijå_ , a scythe. She can and will take part or all of your soul to sustain her life. You, Bruce, have a tremendous soul.”

“You keep talking souls, little miss feisty,” Tony quipped. “What’s up with that?”

Heaving out a sigh, you were grateful when Steve picked you up and took you to sit surrounded by the others. “What is a Valkyrie according to the old legends?”

“A person who gleans the fields of the worthy dead, supposedly to take them back to Valhalla, to await the coming of Ragnarok,” Sam said, shrugging when they all stared at him. “What? I read.”

“They were also known as protectors and the greatest of Odin’s fighters,” added Vision.

“The Elite of Asgard,” you agreed. “But to pick and choose the worthy dead, we have to be able to _see_ who is worthy, don’t we?”

“How do you see a soul?” Wanda asked, her hands twisting together nervously.

“Well, I don’t need my eyes,” you smiled her way gently. “It’s an innate knowing. A sixth sense, if you like. I just… can.” They all sat in silence, each fidgeting, no one willing to ask.

“Oh for-” Nat slapped her hand on her thigh. “We all know Cap’s grade A soul is Valhalla bound, but what about the rest of us?”

You chuckled as Steve’s arms tightened around you. “You’re all such idiots. Greatest warriors of our time? Hell yeah, you’d be Valhalla bound.”

“That’s it? You only gotta be some great warrior to be worthy of Valhalla?” Bucky asked sounding cynical. He flopped down beside Steve, and you reached for his hand. Metal skimmed over metal before your fingers closed together.

“No, Buck. It’s not that simple, and I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. I’m spilling Valkyrie secrets here.”

“Darling, Sváfa, when has that ever stopped you?” Loki snickered.

“True,” you chuckled, relaxing into Steve, the fur of your cloak soft against your cheek. “Prowess is important, but strength of heart, character, morals, it all comes into account. A soul is weighed, your measure taken, and you are chosen based on many factors.” Looking around the room, you held for a moment on each of them. “Being worthy of Valhalla has nothing to do with whether or not you have made mistakes. It’s what you do after you make those mistakes, how you change, how you grow that makes a difference. Wanda.” You looked at the Scarlet Witch. “You hurt people, killed innocent people by mistake, but you learned from it, grew from it, and have done so much good since then. Your powers are stronger than ever, and your control is without question. Bruce.” You shifted to the man with two souls. “The Hulk is a part of you, one you’ve finally come to accept. You’ve stopped shutting him out, and in turn, he’s learning to control his anger. You made mistakes, big ones along the way, but it’s what you’ve done since then that is important. All of you, everyone, you’ve all come so far from where you started. It doesn’t matter that you’ve fallen. It matters that you got back up and did what was _right_!”

“They got that good liquor in Valhalla, right?” Bucky asked, making everyone snicker.

You grinned his way. “You bet your ass they do.”

“And what of me?” Vision’s quiet question cut through the chuckles like a hot knife through butter.

“What about you?” you asked.

“As I have no soul, I am not worthy of Valhalla.”

You didn’t have to see his posture to know he was looking decidedly downtrodden and pushed from Steve’s lap to walk across the room.

Vision eyed you as you approached, his gaze always steady and easily felt. When you drew to a stop, you lifted both hands to his chest.

“What do you feel?” you asked softly. “Does your heart beat?”

“Yes, or at least what constitutes a heart does.”

“And do you have emotions, Vis? Do you worry? Do you fear? Can you be happy? Excited? Sad?”

His hands closed over yours. “Yes.”

You looked up to where his eyes would be and smiled, soft and knowing. “And do you love, Vision? Can you?”

The kick of his heart increased beneath your fingers. “I… yes…” he whispered.

“Then how can you think you have no soul?” It was there. It was so bright and shiny and pure it was nearly blinding. “There isn’t one of you that my sisters would not leap to sweep from the battlefield. All but Steve.” You smiled over your shoulder at him. “He will always be mine, and a _sjelevenn_ soul doesn’t go to Valhalla. Not while there is still work to do.”

“We still got work to do, babe?”

“Damn straight, Cap.” You nodded and looked again toward Bruce. “You have to go. As long as _she_ is here, you’re in danger. The Hulk has a vast soul, and if she got her hooks into it, there would be no stopping her. She could live for centuries off The Hulk alone. As it is, she’s incredibly powerful. I had no idea this is what Matty meant when he said she’d come back thanks to the Hand’s meddling.”

“We’ve never known how the _Sjeletyv_ came into existence,” Loki interjected. “But her being here… concerns me. You and your _sjelevenn_ must remain wary as well, Sváfa.”

“I know, Loki.” You nodded.

“Why?” asked Sam.

“Because if a _Ijå_ got their hands on a _sjelevenn_ soul, they would become immortal, never have to feed again, as a _sjelevenn_ soul is constantly reborn. She could use it up only for it to renew over and over, trapped in her body. There would be no stopping her.” You held up your hands before the burst of questions could drown you. “ _Sjeletyv_ are the creatures we knew as the undead. They had no heartbeat, but their bodies functioned still. It wasn’t Asgard upon which we fought them, but another world now lost to time. The people begged for Odin’s help, and we were sent in to deal with them. They were nearly impossible to kill. You’d stab one through the heart and watch it fall only to rise again minutes later. Taking their head was the only way to kill them for good, or so we thought, but even then some of their leaders would return after their bodies disappeared. We finally took to burning the bodies, and ended up scorching the world to rid us of their plague.”

“And what of the people you went to help?”

The question from Natasha had your head bowing in old despair. “We were too late. They’d killed… everyone. The ones like Elektra, they were _Ijå,_ the scythes. They could walk into a village and glean the soul of every single person without so much as breaking a sweat. Death walked in their shadow, and people died by the hundreds. The regular _Sjeletyv_ , the common ones, were no better than foot soldiers, hacking and slicing and feeding like animals, but _her_ kind… they were like demons. Devils sent to harvest entire cities. They were so fast. So strong.”

“Shit,” Tony hissed. “We need to get that thing out of here!”

You shook your head. “We need to get Bruce out of here, but she needs to stay.”

“Why?” The word came from all of them at nearly the same time.

“Because. Keep your friends close…”

“But your enemies closer.” Tony finished, nodding as he did. “You and Steve should get out of here, too.”

“I have to stay.” You held up your hand when the protests started. “No one, not one of you understands what you’re dealing with. I do. And none of you are strong enough to put her down for good if it comes to that.”

“You’re giving yourself an awful lot of credit there, dollface,” Bucky grumbled. “I could take her.”

“No, Bucky, you couldn’t.” He radiated irritation like a nuke did radiation and you tried to make him understand. “All she has to do is put a hole in you. One. A single slice to your skin. You’d be dead before you hit the ground. She would rid you of your soul in seconds.”

“Jesus…” Steve whispered. “Sweetheart… you can’t…” He got to his feet and moved toward you. “What about you?”

“Valkyrie aren’t human, not like you all are. We hold onto our souls a lot harder. She can’t take mine if I don’t let her.” It had been a lesson hard learned in battle, how to keep the fuckers from stealing what wasn’t there’s to have.

“What about Matt?” Concern laced Bucky’s question.

“Matty… made his choice. Whether this new information will sway him to reconsider…” you shrugged. “I don’t know. All we can do is keep an eye on them both.”

“And if she convinces him to leave?” asked Vision.

“Then they leave. We can’t make them stay. But I don’t think she’ll be going anywhere.” Like Loki had said, it all seemed incredibly coincidental that she’d appeared now. Whether it had something to do with _Hemmelighet_ showing up, you couldn’t be certain, but you didn’t like Elektra being here. “Tony?”

“I’ve already got FRIDAY monitoring all incoming and outgoing communications. After last time, nothing is going to get past my girl. If Elektra is working with someone, I’ll know.”

“Are we thinking Hounds?” Bruce’s voice was all Hulk.

“I don’t know. But I don’t like it.” You glanced toward Loki.

“I’ll return to Asgard. Thor needs to know.”

“Just Thor,” you reiterated, pointing at him, knowing exactly how his mind worked.

He threw up his hands. “Fine! But if so much as _one_ more of these things shows up here…”

“Loki… if there are more, we’ll take it to the _Fullmakt_. I won’t risk it.”

“Now, wait a minute, doll face,” Steve protested, turning you to face him. “You can’t-”

You pressed your fingers to his lips. “Steve… the last time my sisters and I fought these things an entire realm died. The people… gone.”

“Uh, hello? Avengers? America’s greatest heroes? Ring any bells?” quipped Tony.

“And could you tell the difference between her and a living person?” you asked.

“Ugh… maybe,” he grumbled.

“She had no distinguishable heartbeat,” Vision offered.

“See! There, right there! I can work with that.” Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at Vis.

It made you laugh. Even though this new… _arrival_ was unexpected and worrisome, they took it in stride and went with it. Everyone banded together, the team strong and determined — a family. Forever working as one.

“Okay, okay. We’ll give the dice a roll and see what comes. _Ugagn, du vet hva jeg trenger._ ” You aimed the last bit at Loki.

_“Ja. Jeg vil ta med alt.”_ He grinned widely. “I will return as swiftly as I can.”

“Thank you.”

He left in a flash of magic from the room.

“(Y/N), what are you up to?” Steve asked.

“She said, “Loki, you know what I need,” and he replied, “Yes. I will bring it all.'”

“Vis,” you sighed, slapping a hand to your face. “We talked about this.”

“What’s he bringing, doll?” Bucky asked before Steve could.

You closed your eyes, seeking out the quiet heartbeat of Matt. It was getting closer, but he wasn’t yet within hearing range. “My stuff.”

“What stuff?”

You stepped away from Steve to fetch the sword and return to stand between the group and the door. “You’ll see.”

Elektra walked in on Matt’s arm, her smile wide until she saw you waiting. Then it fell into a pout.

“(Y/N)…” Matt began. “If you want us to go… we will, but we’re not finished yet… and Elektra’s not… not what you think she is. She told me everything. She’s trying. She swore she’d keep working to curb the instinct…”

He was so far under her spell it hurt to hear him speak.

You glanced back, toward Steve and Tony. Both men joined you, but you spread your hands out to keep them a pace away. “It’s up to Cap and Tony whether she stays. You, Matty, are welcome. It’s _her_ I don’t trust.”

“Come, now… (Y/N), is it? Can’t we _try_ to get along? I didn’t ask to be made into this. I didn’t even know I was this… _creature_ you spoke of until you mentioned it, but I’m working to better myself every day. Isn’t that all you are doing as well?” She simpered, and smiled, and made you want to vomit.

It was Steve who saved you from spitting venom and separating her head from her neck. “You can both stay, but we’ll be watching you, Elektra.”

She turned her smile on Steve. “How _wonderful_! I can’t wait to get to know each and every one of you. Matthew has told me so much about you all I feel like I know you already.”

That same sick sensation as before, the one that set your Valkyrie instincts screaming with her arrival roared into life a second time.

“Natasha!” you hissed.

She and Bruce were up and moving, heading away from the two in the doorway and toward the exterior exit in a heartbeat.

“Are they leaving?” Elektra pouted. “Pity. Dr. Banner’s research is fascinating. I hope they’ll return soon.”

Before you even knew you were going to do it, you were across the room with your claws wrapped around her throat.

Matt’s hand locked around your wrist, but he had not the strength to pull you away. “(Y/N)! Stop this madness!”

“I won’t kill your precious Elektra, Matty, but I will issue one _final_ warning. Come at my team, my family, in _any_ fashion, and I will mount your head on a pike!” A shove saw her stumbling back away from you when you released her.

“Put your hands on me again, _(Y/N)_ and I won’t hesitate to retaliate!” she sneered.

This time it was you who smiled. Cold. Hard. Deadly. “Try it. You won’t survive the encounter.”

“Blind bitch!” she snapped.

“Oh, _honey_ ,” you poured sweetness into your tone and cocked a hip. “Is bitch the best you can do, soulless whore of darkness?”

“Enough!” Matt barked, stepping between you. “Enough. Can we just… all go to bed? God! I can’t deal with this right now!”

Shame filled you, and you stepped back. “Matty… I’m sorry.”

He shook his head but patted your shoulder. “I’m going to show Elektra to my suite. She can stay with me. We’ll… figure this out tomorrow.”

“Sure, Matt. Tomorrow.”

As the two of them walked away, you could only hope he’d have a tomorrow.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: painful memories of blood and battle and death, swearing
> 
> Song: Porcelain by Marianas Trench

## Chapter Ten

* * *

You scrubbed your hand over your mouth, forcing back the bile rising up your throat.

“(Y/N),” Tony’s hand settled in the fur of your cloak. “We need to know everything. How the Valkyrie fought them. How you destroyed them. Everything.”

“Tony, I…” You wiped your mouth a second time, fighting down the urge to be sick. The smell of death was thick and with it came memories of battles, of bloodshed, of the screams of dying Valkyrie and Pegasi. “I can’t…”

“Tony,” Steve warned, apparently feeling the wild beating of your heart.

“Shut it, Capscicle,” he huffed. “We’ve all been there, done that, bled on the t-shirt. We need to know this shit, and she’s the only one who can tell us!”

“I can’t,” you gasped softly, the grip you had on your sword tightening like it was a lifeline. It kept you present in the here and now when the wave of unrelenting sorrow tried to swamp you. “Not now.” Not when you felt like you were drowning in death and swimming through a fog of memories.

“Hey, we’ve all seen our share of death. You’re going to need to suck it up and speak, your highness,” he grumbled, his grip tightening on your shoulder.

The snarky remark and use of your title snapped what little control you had left. “You want me to speak? You want me to talk about it, Tony? You want to compare your years of experience to mine? To the _centuries_ of battle I have living in my head? What do you want to know first? How they took us unawares?” you asked as you turned on him. “How they slaughtered _hundreds_ of my sisters before we managed to fight them back? Would you like to know what it sounds like when a Valkyrie loses her soul? When a Pegasus screams as his insides are torn out? Or how about what it feels like to slog your way through blood and body parts?”

“Baby.” Steve reached out to you, but you jerked away from his hands.

“I could tell you what it smells like when you light dozens of pyres to burn the bodies of your fallen sisters. How the scent of burning flesh… lingers on the air with the smoke. You can scrub your skin raw, bathe a dozen times and that smell just won’t… won’t come out!”

“Sweetheart… that’s enough.” Steve stepped toward you, arms out as if approaching a wild creature.

You had no idea how wild you looked, how desperate, and frantic, and close to breaking you appeared. All you knew was the pain of losing thousands of sisters in those months of unrelenting battle. “Not enough,” you said with a shake of your head. “Never enough. I wasn’t enough. I watched them fall. I watched the _Sjeletyv_ reach out,” you reached out toward Tony, curled your hand into a crone’s claw, and jerked it back as if shredding flesh from bone, “and _rip_ the very life out of my companions. And then they turned… oh, gods… they turned four of my sisters, and I still don’t know how. And they walked uncontested into camp… and killed a dozen of us… before I… before… before I…” You dropped the sword in your hand like it burned you, and lifted shaking metal-clad fingers to your mouth. “I killed them… I killed them all. I killed them… and the _Sjeletyv_ screamed…”

Steve lurched toward you, but you were already running. You couldn’t escape the smell. Every step laced with the screams of the dying. The blood once soaking your hands seemed to drip from the ends of your fingers and burn your skin. Even as you ran, you rubbed at them, scratched at your flesh. It wasn’t there, you knew there was no bright red viscous liquid on your hands, but you could feel it, still, as if it was only yesterday you’d taken your sword to the necks of your soulless sisters.

When you’d told Matty she wasn’t his Elektra anymore; you hadn’t been lying. You’d been speaking from experience.

You hit the stairwell door at a dead run, barrelling through to almost fall up the stairs. The scent of blood filled your lungs. Smoke wanted to choke you. It was all in your head, but that didn’t make it any less real.

Your legs burned as you took the stairs three at a time. You needed out. Out of the building. Out of the stench. Out under the stars where the wind could dry the tears from your face, and you could stand beneath Máni’s light and pretend Freyja was watching over you still.

Slamming through the door, you stumbled and fell to your knees, breaking down under the weight of your regrets. The sobs shook you, and every face of every one of the fallen flashed through your mind. The ones who’d looked at you in fear as they fell beneath the claws of the _Sjeletyv_. The ones who’d cried out for you to save them when you couldn’t. When you were helpless to reach them in time.

And the four who’d looked at you with black eyes. With dead eyes. With no recognition.

Your hands closed on your temples, on the metal of your helm and you wrenched it from your head to chuck it across the roof. The wind hit your face, stole your breath, but drove away the scent of death with crisp, clean, fall air.

You covered your face with your hands as the pain grew bigger, and bigger, and bigger until you lifted your head and screamed out in anguish.

“Baby…” Steve’s arms wrapped around you as he settled to the ground behind you, knees spread to cradle your hips and pull you back into his chest.

“I killed them… I killed them, Steve…” The memory poured through you like fire, scalding you with the shame. “I killed them… I was the only one who could.”

He rocked you back and forth in a soothing action. His arms were tight, hands warm. He tucked his chin over your heavy fur collar. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You did what you had to do.”

You shook your head. “It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. So many died, Steve. We weren’t ready. We weren’t prepared. I was their leader, and I was… I was… _helpless_!”

“You can’t blame yourself. You didn’t know what you were walking into.”

“It was bad, Stevie… it was so bad…”

As your shaking slowed, he shifted your positions to pull you into his lap and tug your cloak up around his shoulders.

His hands began to brush up and down your back. “You want to talk about it?”

With a sigh, you rested your head on his shoulder. “We went in five-hundred strong, more than I ever thought we’d need, but when an army attacks an entire _world_ one can never be too careful. We were the elite of Asgard, Odin’s chosen force, and when we flew over, the Pegasi spreading shadows over the land… people cheered. Then… cheers turned to screams of terror when the _Sjeletyv_ appeared. They didn’t look like humans, Steve. They walked on these long, thin legs, balancing on their toes and the knuckles of these insanely long arms…” You shuddered, the memory sending a tendril of fear streaking up your spine. “Their armour was dark, an oily blue-black, covered in spikes, and they moved across the ground like… like hyenas, in this strange loping gate. But it wasn’t until we landed that we realized just how deadly they were. They would stand up, almost nine feet tall with a six-foot reach, three-inch claws curved and serrated shredded armour like it was paper thin…”

You paused as the memories pulled you back. “I remember Helga… she fell first. A _Sjeletyv_ soldier just tore out her throat. It was so fast, and it… it screeched this god awful sound, but I didn’t understand right away what it was doing when it lowered its head over her body until I saw it… her soul, Steven… her soul… it just… it just… _vanished_ and she was gone. It was like a piece of myself felt her die, felt her soul _die_ with her. Then others were falling… and we were _losing_. Us! The Valkryjur were _losing_!”

Your hand crept up around his neck as your burrowed closer, the horror pouring out and fresh tears falling down your face. “I don’t remember much more from that first battle but the killing. Killing and killing and killing, until I was covered in blood and slogging through body parts. We sent the Pegasi off the field. The creatures were just too much for them, but they wouldn’t listen and harassed them from the air.” You turned your face to Steve’s throat, inhaling his scent to clear the strongest of the memories from sucking you back into that place. “The sound, though… _gods_ , Steven… the sound they made when they died… I can’t unhear it; I can’t unsee their grey and white bodies falling from the sky to crash to the ground in broken limbs and shredded feathers.

Sky-Bjorn, he refused to leave my side, and I think staying on the ground probably saved his life. He was better with his feet than any Pegasi since him, and could put a hoof through a skull with such precision it would _pop_. He took claws to his wings more than once to save me. When they finally retreated, when I finally got a chance to look at my forces… there was a hundred of us left and half as many Pegasi.”

“Jesus!” he swore softly and tightened his hold.

“More came. Almost the entire Valkyrjur descended on that world to fight them back. They barely let us rest, barely let us honour our dead. If it weren’t for the Pegasi and the _smell_ of them, we’d have been overrun on more than one occasion.” The rawness of your throat and the strain of every word was taking its toll, but now that you’d started, you couldn’t stop. “We’d managed to turn the tide on them, had figured out how to protect ourselves from their soul stealing ways when the first _Ijå_ appeared. It was different, more humanoid than the others. It walked through the ranks with a _smile_ and such an air of confidence it rattled that of my Valkyrie. The power of it, Steve, was immense, but it didn’t come for us. It went for the village. It went for the people we were protecting. By the time I got through its bodyguard…” a sob caught in your throat, “It had killed fifty people and was holding a little girl by the back of the neck. It _smiled_ at me. Smiled as she screamed for me to save her. Smiled when it nicked her… _nicked_ her cheek and sucked… sucked her soul out of an opening no bigger than a paper cut.”

“Baby… baby, stop,” he whispered, clutching you to him as the heartbroken sob shook your body.

“They said… they said I went, full berserker… that I screamed down the heavens and took its head off with nothing but my mother’s gauntlet, but I don’t… I don’t remember. I remember cradling the body of that child. Of coming too with her in my arms and her dead eyes looking back, and I knew, _I knew_ , she was gone. Not dead, but _gone_ ,” you whispered harshly. “No rest for her young soul. Just oblivion. Just _death_.”

“Where was Thor in all this? Where was Loki? Odin? _Any_ of them?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“I wouldn’t let them come. The Pegasi could travel between worlds without the Bifröst, but the Asgardian troops couldn’t. By that point I knew we couldn’t let even _one_ of those creatures live, couldn’t let them get to the Bifröst should it open, and I had no idea if they could take Thor or Loki or any of their souls. I couldn’t risk it! And when they turned my sisters…” You shook your head again and snuffled, using Tove’s cloak to wipe your cheeks. “Asta, Ingrid, Brynhildr, and Vigdís had been missing for five weeks when the four of them walked into camp. They looked rough, beaten and bloody. They said all the right things. They’d been captured, tortured for information, and managed to escape, but something seemed off, and that’s when I realized they had no heartbeats. When Tyra reached for her sword… all hell broke loose, and a contingent of _Sjeletyv_ came out of the dark. The four cut Tyra down, cut down another ten before I managed to get over the shield wall. I took out Asta’s legs to get to her head, put a shield through Ingrid’s throat. Someone else put nine arrows in Vigdís, dropping her long enough for me to take off her head, but Brynhildr, Brynhildr was _good_ , and I was tired. She fought me back, fought me down. I ended up catching her sword on my cloak, took a hard blow to the ribs, a fist to the face, and I went to a knee. I saw my death in her eyes, but I heard Tove’s voice in my ear, reminding me I was destined for more and found some strength somewhere to fight Brynhildr back and win. And then… and then the _Sjeletyv_ … _screamed_ angry we’d killed their new fighters.”

His grip had grown progressively tighter with your recitation. “Fuck… holy fuck…”

“By the next morning, it was clear the world was lost. We’d failed. There was no one left to protect, and we hadn’t saved a single person. The _Sjeletyv_ had killed everything that moved. Everything that drew breath was dead or like them. Odin ordered us home, and he opened the Bifröst long enough to scorch the world. Five-thousand Valkyrie and their steeds set foot on that world. Fifteen-hundred of us came home with twelve-hundred Pegasi.”

He was shaking by the time you finished, both anger and fear clouding his scent. “What life was this?” he finally managed to force out.

“First… first life,” you whispered, holding him that much tighter. “We met a few years later.”

“Oh… god…” His tears soaked into your hair. “You could have died. You could have died, and we’d never have met.”

“I could have, but I didn’t.” You felt cold, frozen right to the bones. Not even his warmth was enough to take the chill from you.

He rocked and held you. Rocked and stroked your spine. “We need to find out more about this _Hand_.”

“We will.” You shivered and hunched further into his body. “If Elektra wants to play the innocent victim, then let her. She’ll be more likely to say something she shouldn’t. If she’s here for the Hounds… we’ll know soon enough.”

He set you back to free his arm from your cloak and cup your cheek. “I’m so sorry, _min vakre skjoldpike._ So sorry you went through that.”

You sighed and leaned into his touch. “We’ve all seen stuff, Steve. My stuff is just… different.”

“Still, you don’t need to be dredging up all this because Tony’s an impatient ass,” he growled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Wasn’t Tony’s fault. They were already surfacing thanks to the smell.”

“Smell?”

“You can’t smell her? She smells like death!” You sat up further to stare at him in shock.

“Couldn’t smell a thing other than whatever perfume she uses. It wasn’t disgusting, but it wasn’t my favourite either,” he said, lowering his head to trace his nose along your jaw. “Not like this scent. You always smell amazing.”

“Steve,” you sighed, tilting your head to give him better access.

“You’re so cold, baby. Let me take you to bed and warm you up. See if I can’t help push those memories back for you,” he murmured, lips skimming your skin with every word.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, doll face. I can get you warm. Are you hungry at all, baby? Want something to eat first?”

“I can’t… well… maybe?” Your hand played with the hair at his nape while the other stroked over the cotton of his shirt, finding you were a little hungry after all.

He rocked up on his knees, his arm going beneath your thighs to lift you to his chest. “Then let’s go inside. I’ll take you to the kitchen and make you something. You can have a hot chocolate while I fix you a sandwich.”

“With marshmallows?” you asked, pouting a little and batting your lashes.

A chuckle rumbled his chest. “Yeah, baby. You can have marshmallows.”

“Lots of marshmallows?”

He smirked against your ear and kissed your cheek while you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Yes, I will fill your cup half full of marshmallows. I know how you are.”

“What? I like marshmallows!”

“You’d probably like it if I filled the mug full of marshmallows and poured the hot chocolate over the top, so it filled in all the crevices.”

You pulled back to look at him. “Can you do that?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Only if you want to spend the night on a sugar high.”

It took a little finessing, but you wiggled yourself around until you could wrap your legs around his hips. “Would that be so bad if I got to expend my energy with you… _Captain_?”

Both of his hands went to the thin fabric of your pants and squeezed tightly on your ass. He pressed you back into the door and stroked the tip of his nose over your cheek to bump and nudge against yours. “Not at all, doll. Not at all.”

“Steve…” you sighed against his lips. Hot breath warmed your cold flesh, and tender kisses lifted your bruised heart. His hair was silky soft when you carded your fingers through it, being careful of you talons over his scalp.

“Let’s satisfy your appetite, then we can satisfy _mine_ ,” he purred.

His teeth caught and worked over your lower lip, making you shiver with need. Your legs tightened on his hips, forcing him closer until the weight of him made it hard to breathe. A tug had your lip free of his teeth, letting you dive into his mouth, kiss him with every drop of love you held inside you for the man who was your heart and soul.

He wrenched away to gasp for air when the kiss seemed to last for hours. His panting breath washed over your lips, and you had to touch his, see for yourself just how plump and swollen and bruised they’d become. He nipped the tips of your fingers, rumbles of pleasure echoing in his chest as if he were a jungle cat, purring for his mate.

“I love the way you smell in this cloak. It adds a layer of _feral_ to you as if you’ve taken a part of the wolf into your own body and become a wild thing wrapped in its fur.” Steve tucked his nose in along your pulse, the fur sliding away from your skin to be replaced by the heat of his breath and the softness of his lips. “When Loki draped it over you and set the helmet on your head like a crown… _fuck_! I wanted to kneel at your feet and howl to the heavens. _Mine_! My woman. My Valkyrie Queen. _Min vakre skjoldpike_! All mine. Then you crossed blades and fire erupted…” He stopped to sink his teeth into your pulse and hold there while the pounding of his heart escalated, thudding hard against your chest.

You moaned and stretched your throat out. “Harder, _sjelevenn_.”

He complied, working his teeth into your skin. There would be a bruise, a nice one, which would last for a few hours and throb deliciously, reminding you just who you belonged to. He rolled his hips forward, sending the thickness of jeans along with the rigid length of his growing erection right into your sensitive core.

“You looked like something out of Norse legends. An angry goddess. A mythical queen. Fuck it was _hot_!” he snarled, tilting your body harder into his. “Why the cloak, though? Doesn’t it get in the way?”

Only Steve could multitask in such a fashion. He was breathing hot and heavy against your throat, his teeth returning over and over to what felt like one hell of a hickey, but he could still ask the questions running rampant in his brain when most men’s thoughts would have gone south and stayed there.

“It’s… impenetrable. No blade can cut it,” you gasped, clinging to him and rocking your hips into his in rolling a rhythm.

“Baby, baby… don’t…” he groaned, the sound pained. “ _Damnit_! I’m not taking you on the roof when there is a perfectly good bed right down the stairs!”

“You… started it!”

He dragged you from the door. “Then I guess I should end it.”

You pouted and refused to unwrap your legs. “Big meanie.” The swat to your behind had the exact opposite effect it was intended to as you hummed appreciatively and melted into Steve. “Do it again, Stevie. I _wike_ it.”

“Don’t start, frisky kitten,” he grumbled, but damn if he didn’t give you a second swat to the other ass cheek.

“Only for you, _Captain_ ,” you purred, nipping his ear, clinging like a spider monkey when he tried to peel you from him. “Nuh uh. I want a ride, and I happen to like this position.”

Steve shook his head, but only jacked you higher with an arm of steel beneath your buttocks. “You’re a cheeky dame,” he continued to mutter as he took quick strides across the roof and bent to retrieve the helmet you’d chucked.

The world tilted, and you giggled, wild and giddy when it righted.

“You alright there, doll face?” he chuckled, plunking the helmet back on your head.

“Yeah. Yeah, I really am.” It felt as if a weight had lifted, one heavy with old guilt and shame. It was less fresh. Muted. Like the old wound had finally closed. “Thank you, _sjelevenn_ ,” you whispered, cupping his face. “You’re so good to me, Steve.”

“Always. I love you, (Y/N). I’ll love you forever.”

Tears, again, burned your eyes but these were not of sorrow. As you held him close, lightly tracing his features with your fingers so they would translate to your mind’s eye, you murmured, “ _Hvis alle stjernene i himmelen var min kjærlighet til deg, de ville fortsatt være en kort._ ”

“Sweetheart, you slay me.” He rested his forehead gently against yours. “You sound so damn sexy, and my heart kind of flutters when you do that. Tell me what you said?”

“If all the stars in the heavens were my love for you, they would still be one short.”

He gave a shuddering breath and held you like you were glass, precious and fragile. A treasure. His most valuable one. “You say shit like that, and my heart just falls into your hands, baby doll.”

“That’s good, Steve because mine already beats in your chest.”

“Everything I feel with you is so… _big_. I just can’t with you sometimes.”

“Are you saying I make you speechless, Steven? You? Captain America at a loss for words? I’m _shook_!” you teased, patting his cheek.

“Darlin’,” he drawled, heading toward the door, “you leave me speechless on a regular basis. And half the time I’m speechless because I’m distracted watching your ass.”

You burst out laughing as he made his way inside the compound. “Well, Cap. You make me a hot chocolate with _tons_ of marshmallows, and you can do more than simply _watch_ my ass.”

“Deal!” he crowed and raced down the stairs.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst, swearing
> 
> Song: Nightingale by Demi Lovato

## Chapter Eleven

* * *

A week passed. Seven days of hell. Seven days in which you were slowly going insane.

You lived in a constant state of fight or flight, your adrenalin high never waning. It was like being back there, on that world where you spent months with little sleep and even less food. Where the anxiety and continuous state of _on_ never wavered.

Elektra’s scent, the one only you could smell, had invaded every inch of the common rooms. You could smell her in the halls. The lounge. The communal spaces. Her voice, sweetly laced with condensation was aimed at all times toward Matty. If you had to hear _Matthew_ purred in that accent one more time you were going to flip a bitch so fucking hard.

It had gotten to the point where the rest of the team walked on eggshells around you. They all knew the stress it was causing, the nightmares it was inducing. Once it had been Bucky’s screams which had echoed down the hall at night. Now, it was yours.

The first night after Steve had fed you marshmallows until you felt like one and taken you to bed where he worked off the sugar high, you’d gone to sleep happy and sated only to wake hours later, standing at the foot of the bed with blood on your hands. Someone had brought the sword to your room and left it on the sofa, but in your dream state, you’d picked it up as you had that final day when it had been covered in the blood of your sisters, and squeezed the blade so hard it cut straight to the bone.

Steve’s yell of fear had drawn Bucky and Wanda to you, to find him crouched on the floor before you, trying desperately to coax the sword from your grasp.

Wanda had jumped in and managed to bring you back to find the blade coated in red and your hands on fire with pain.

You’d lashed out, terrified and only half aware, missing Steve by a whisper when he’d jerked back, but it had been Bucky who’d reached between you and snatched the sword from your grasp, sending metal screaming across metal.

The god-awful sound was so raw, it snapped you fully into the present, and you cried when you realized what you’d done.

Steve didn’t blame you, neither did Bucky or Wanda or anyone else, but you’d insisted afterward that Bucky keep the blade.

While Steve had taken you to medical to get your hands patched up, your heart had shattered a little more for, once she thought you were out of hearing range, Wanda broke down against Bucky, her sobs ringing in your ears as she murmured over and over again, “Never ask. Don’t ever ask. You do not want to see.”

She’d caught a glimpse of the carnage in your memory.

After, Wanda had become a staunch supporter of you. She had your back in all things, and you loved her for it, even as guilt ate at you.

The worst part was, Elektra was disarming to most people. She was refined, charming, and from what others had said, beautiful. She made people like her.

Not your team, not your friends. They were all far too wary of her, knowing what she was, but you’d heard her laughing with a few of the men in different departments, claiming her _innocence_ and how she had no idea why the resident Valkyrie had it out for her.

Matt was no better. Everywhere he went, she had to be there. He loathed to leave Elektra alone, and she hung on him when they were together. He’d brought her to your sessions with Matt, and every time you’d had to bow out, unable to stomach the smell for more than ten minutes.

Her presence in your life was like a whip, driving you onward, wielded by a sadistic taskmaster.

Add in how Loki had not returned, how you’d heard nothing of Asgard in days, and you were unravelling. What sanity you’d gained with Matt’s arrival, what control you’d learned was all falling to pieces.

She was making you crazy.

You wanted her dead.

The worst part was, she wasn’t doing anything technically wrong. She hadn’t tried to contact anyone outside the facility. She lived here relatively quietly. Matt was happy, though he seemed less _Matt_ with her around. He’d lost some of his spark and fire when she arrived and taken over, treating him as if he were an invalid when he was one of the most capable people you’d ever met. She was friendly to everyone and, so far, she hadn’t tried to drain the life from anyone’s soul.

It was disconcerting for, though she was _Sjeletyv_ , she didn’t act like the ones you’d face in the past. She wasn’t an automaton bent on total annihilation. Whether that was because she wasn’t _Sjeletyv_ in truth, but a human turned into one of the hated race, you couldn’t be certain. So little was known of them.

They hadn’t been ones to make conversation, and even when you’d managed to capture one alive, a nearly impossible feat, they had been nothing more than mindless killing machines. The _ljå_ had been much more sentient, but by the gods, catching one of those bastards usually cost more lives than the intel had been worth. They were crafty assholes, spoke in riddles and a guttural language so difficult to understand, half the time you weren’t sure what they were saying.

Even now, over a millennium later, you still had no idea if the _Sjeletyv_ were even of that race of crazed, bloodthirsty beings, or if that race had once been something else. If they could turn the people of the world you’d gone to assist - if they could turn your own sisters - and now the humans of this realm… who was to say what they originally were.

It made your brain hurt, and you’d come outside to spend time with _Hemmelighet_ to clear the headache Elektra’s putrid scent had given you.

He stood within the walls of his barn, wings relaxed and head down, dozing on three legs while you worked a brush over his hide. The grooming was a way to bond with him, grow closer, and gain in partnership.

It was soothing for you as well. The consistent stroking and sound of the bristles over his hair, the way his skin would quiver or tail would swing when a fly bothered him, and the scent of warm hide, dust, and straw were pleasant. Add in the quiet stillness of the barn and the chirping of the birds, and your tranquillity was assured.

The curry comb and soft body brush went back on the shelf by the door, and you were in the process of finding the bottle of oil you could scent but not locate when the forest went silent. Not quiet like when a fox was on the hunt, but _silent_. The kind of silence which only came when a large predator was on the prowl.

Your skin crawled. A shiver traced your spine. Warning sirens were going off in your brain, and you palmed the dagger you kept tucked at the small of your back. “Stay here,” you murmured to _Hemmelighet_ when the big stallion stirred awake.

As soon as you stepped beyond the cool interior of the barn, you smelt her. “C’mon out, Elektra. Not like you to skulk.”

“I was curious where you were always sneaking off to. I didn’t want to intrude.”

You turned your head to the right and walked farther from the doors to the barn. “Well, that would be the first time all week, but you’re not welcome here. This is my private space.” So far, Matt hadn’t said a word to her about the Pegasus or your personal history, and for that you were grateful. What secrets you’d asked Matt to keep, he was honouring.

How did you know? You lived in a constant state of awareness when it came to the two of them. You weren’t sleeping more than snatches at night before the scent of her drifting through the air vents would send you spiralling into new nightmares and hell, and more than once you’d left Steve asleep in your bed to go up to the roof and doze beneath the stars.

That was how you knew exactly what Matt and Elektra spoke of. Yes, you eavesdropped, and no, you had no qualms or regrets about it. You were protecting your team, your family. If once or twice you’d tuned into things you _didn’t_ want to hear, well, at least you knew Matt wasn’t one to spill secrets during pillow talk.

“A barn is your secret?” she snickered and sauntered closer with her arms crossed over her chest like she owned the damn world. “And what are you hiding in your _barn_ , you don’t want me to see?”

“And why would anything I do be about you, Elektra?” you asked, placing yourself between her and the door. “Now, leave before I make you leave.”

“Make me leave?” She laughed. “And sending me running back to Matthew to tell him how unpleasant you are?”

“You know, Elektra, unlike you I don’t need to manipulate my man into caring for me.”

“Bitch!” she hissed, her hands falling to her sides.

You shifted your stance, drawing your foot behind you in preparation. “I asked you to go. This is my private space and my private business. You are not welcome. If you come here again, I won’t hesitate to hurt you.”

She snorted her contempt. “You keep saying that, yet all I see is a bitch with a vision problem who can’t fight longer than ten minutes before throwing in the towel. Matthew is so disappointed in you. No wonder he begged me to come and help him.”

Her words froze you in place. “What?” Was that why she was here? Had Matt been disappointed in you? You couldn’t be certain as you hadn’t started listening in until recently. Were you such a failure he had brought in extra help?

“What’s that matter, (Y/N)? Cat got your tongue?” You could hear the smirk in her voice. “Did you think Matthew was _proud_ of your progress? That you were getting better?”

“You’re so full of shit!” you spat, refusing to let her get in your head. It was the same  bullshit Garry had pulled, playing freaking mind games. “Why are you really here, Elektra? You play this part, but it’s getting old, so spit it out already! Who the fuck are you working for, and what the hell do they want?”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” she huffed, turning up her nose.

You made to retort, something sharp and cutting when the wind shifted and took her scent straight in the open door behind you.

_Hemmelighet_ let out such a trumpet of rage; it seemed to come from a thousand Pegasi as he burst out the stable door to bugle his battle cry and rise on his hind legs. His wings stretched to their full span as he pawed at the air, screamed a challenge and lunged for her.

“ _Hemmelighet_! No!” you barked, but he was in full battle fever and wouldn’t be halted so easily.

Elektra screamed, the sound ripping through the forest as she fell back, trying to escape the hooves slamming into the ground over and over. A wing whipped forward and sent her flying into the trunk of a tree with a crunch.

There was no help for it. You knew he would kill her if he got a chance, and the only way to stop that from happening was to wrestle the control away from your enraged mount. But you hadn’t ridden him, not yet. Not when you weren’t certain you would be able to use your enhanced senses from his back. You’d been nervous even to try.

Now, you had no choice.

When Elektra shrieked a second time and scrambled out of the way, you ran for the shifting hindquarters and leapfrogged your way over them, miscalculating slightly and winding up perched nearly on his neck.

He bellowed again and rounded his back, dropping his head as he prepared to buck.

You snaked your metal-clad hand into his mane and yanked with all your might, forcing his head up and his back down. “ _Hemmelighet_! Enough!”

He paused, ears twisting and head curling to look back at you perched too high on his withers before shaking all over. He danced beneath you, hooves moving in a restless rhythm and snapped thick white teeth at Elektra.

“I know she is,” you said softly when he warned you what she was and glared at the hated creature staring at the two of you in wonder. “But her death is not yet warranted.”

He snorted, blowing hard through his nose and you knew the feeling. The stench of death wafted from her even greater than before.

“Get up. Go back to Matt, and don’t ever come back here,” you hissed at her. “Try it, and I may not be around to stop him the next time.” She did not have the claws or the reach to be much of a challenge to your mount.

She made to speak but the sound of running feet cut her off, and you took the opportunity to dart back where you belonged. The only thing to save you had been your toes catching on his wings. Otherwise, you would have gone right over him in your lunge and likely ended up under his hooves.

_Hemmelighet_ backed away from her slowly as your knees settled into the hollow behind his wings. With your hand wrapped in his mane, you soothed him with the other as first Steve, then Bucky, then Matt and Sam ran into the clearing before the barn.

All stopped to gape at you on the back of the Pegasus, before a small whimper from Elektra drew Matt’s attention.

“Elektra!” he gasped darting toward her and causing your steed to snort.

_Hemmelighet_ had just lost all respect for Matt, soft hands or not, and flicked his tail in contempt before kicking viciously at the tree behind him. The sold _thwack_ was followed by a thunderous _crack_ when the trunk snapped and fell into the forest behind him. Granted, it wasn’t like it was as big as a redwood, but it was still an impressive feat when accomplished by what was, essentially, a horse.

“What happened?” Matt asked Elektra who was letting big false tears roll down her face.

“I just came… to talk to her… and _it_ _attacked me_!” she sobbed.

You rolled your eyes. “Take her and go, Matt. I warned her she wasn’t welcome here, but she insisted on knowing my _secrets_. Now you know, so get the hell out of here before I let _Hemmelighet_ finish what he started!”

“(Y/N),” Matt began, exasperation heavy in his voice.

“No, Matt. Just no. I’ve done _everything_ in my power to stay out of your business, to let her be, to ignore the instincts screaming inside me, and the _one_ thing I asked in return was for her to stay out of this, to leave my private business alone, but no. She can’t. She sticks her nose in where it doesn’t belong. I don’t give a flying _fuck_ if she isn’t the same _Sjeletyv_ that I fought. _Keep her out of my business!_ ”

_Hemmelighet_ tensed, and you clamped your knees to his sides when he reared up to bugle and paw and scream his thoughts on the matter. When he dropped back to the ground, you smiled, wicked, cold, and heartless.

“He says, “Come here again, and your head will meet the same fate the tree just did.” Pegasi don’t have the restraint their riders do. They only know the instinct. They only know a hoof to the head is an effective way of killing your kind.”

“That’s enough!” Matt barked, turning a harsh glare your way.

It hurt to have him look at you like that, like you were the enemy when the truth was so far from it. “Matty…”

“No. I think you’ve said enough. Maybe we should pack up and go, because we can’t keep doing this.” He helped Elektra to her feet. “You’re not happy. She’s not happy. No one is getting along. I don’t know what to do anymore!”

“I’m sorry, Matt,” you said softly. “But I can’t be in the same room with her. I just can’t.” You gave _Hemmelighet’s_ mane a twist, and the Pegasus spun away, his powerful hindquarters launching him down the trail toward the bunker. The trees were too dense for him to spread his wings, but his legs were strong, and you bent low over his neck as he raced through the forest.

The feel of a Pegasus between your thighs again after so long felt amazing, and you let him run where he would, heart aching in your chest and tears streaming down your face.

It was too hard. You couldn’t put aside the past for one person. You couldn’t look at her and _not_ see death, not when her scent permeated every part of the home meant to be your safe place. It was shredding you to pieces. Again, there was an invader in your home, stealing your peace, making you crazy, causing you to doubt and fear and despair in the same way Garry had.

Why couldn’t you just have peace? Why couldn’t you just live your life? Why couldn’t you be happy?

The crunch of gravel suddenly filled your ears as you realized you’d left the forest, and you sat up, uncertain how long you’d been wallowing in your self-pity. Mighty wings spread wide, and you were airborne between one breath and the next. The thrust of his downward stroke rocked you back, but you gripped tighter with your thighs and threaded your other hand into his mane.

The rumble from his chest made you sob out a soft laugh. “Thank you,” you sighed, leaning down to hug his neck when he levelled out.

_Hemmelighet_ was right. Here, in the sky and amongst the clouds, there was a place no one could take from you. Here was a feeling of peace you could only find on his back, and he would take you there whenever you needed it.

***

Steve levelled a stern glare toward Matt and Elektra, angrier than he’d been in some time. “You know, maybe you should leave.”

“Cap,” Sam murmured, giving him the side-eye, evidently trying to remind him of just _why_ she was still here.

“No, Sam. No.” Steve stalked across the clearing. “How you been sleeping, Matt? Huh? Pretty good?”

Matt frowned but nodded. “Fine. Why?”

“Because my girl sure as shit ain’t! She relives the battles she fought with the _Sjeletyv_ every damn night! I don’t think she’s caught more than a handful of hours in seven days. Seven days, Murdock! And all because _you_ keep picking at her!” Steve turned his glare on Elektra.

“Wait, now, Captain. That’s not fair. Elektra hasn’t done anything!” Matt defended.

“No? Just being here is enough, but let’s recap shall we?” Steve sneered, looking between the two of them. “We asked you here to help (Y/N), which in the weeks you’ve been doing so she’s been succeeding in leaps and bounds. Then, _she_ shows up. Fine. She’s your girl. We get it. You want her here and still have things left to work on with _my girl_ , then she stays, but _you_ need to pull your head out of your ass!”

“Steve,” Bucky called, grasping him by the shoulder.

Steve only shook his head. “She can’t be around you, Elektra. She can’t. It takes everything she is not put a blade through your heart.”

“Well,” Elektra flipped her hair back over her shoulder, “maybe she needs to learn some restraint? Some self-discipline. If she’s so out of control, _maybe_ she shouldn’t be an Avenger.”

Red seemed to wash through Steve’s vision. It was only Bucky’s bone-crushing grip on his shoulder that held him back. “Don’t _ever_ talk about her like you know. You don’t know. _You don’t know what she went through!”_ Steve snarled.

She snorted. “Like it was anything worth crying over.”

It was as if she had no sense of self-preservation. None.

Steve lunged, Bucky intervened, and Matt jerked Elektra out of the way.

“ _You don’t know_! A battle that lasted nearly a damn year and saw only a _quarter_ of her sister come home! Over three thousand Valkyrie _dead_ is not something to sneer at!”

Everyone froze.

Steve let out a frustrated huff and thrust his hand into his hair. They hadn’t talked about it. Not to anyone. She’d given Tony the information he’d wanted, but the rest… the blood, sweat, and tears… those were all for Steve to shoulder. A burden he would gladly carry if she would only let him.

Wanda had gotten a glimpse. She’d come to him the day after with wet eyes and a shaky smile and said she was _one-hundred_ _percent_ on board with whatever happened next. At this point, if they needed, she’d happily dig through Elektra’s mind. It was not an offer freely given by the Scarlet Witch. It was, in fact, something Wanda seriously disliked doing, but for her to offer… Steve knew whatever lived in his best girl’s head was far worse than he could imagine.

“Jesus… Steve…” Bucky whispered.

“She doesn’t sleep because she can’t. If she doesn’t have some form of PTSD, then I’m not a Captain.” He turned his hard gaze back to Elektra. “And all of it is because you stink.”

“I beg your pardon!” she gasped.

“Not to the rest of us, but to her you smell of death. Blood and death and battle. You want to know why she can’t train from more than ten minutes. It’s because you refuse to let her do so without being there. That’s how long she can stand before she needs to throw up. Before the memories are so _goddamn_ overwhelming, it’s all she can do to force them back.”

“Cap…” Sam gasped, eyes wide and horrified.

“She can’t sleep in our room because she can smell you. She can’t stay in the common areas because you’re there too. This,” he threw his arm at the barn, “was just about the _only_ place she could come and find a semblance of peace. You’ve now taken that from her as well. So don’t talk to me about restraint, Elektra. Don’t lecture me on how she’s _handling_ things. She’s doing everything she can to hold it together because _you_ asked her to, Matt. She’s _trying_ to give you the benefit of the doubt, Ms. Natchios, but when you invade her space and cause her to have flashbacks of taking off four of her own sister's heads after they became _exactly_ what you are, you make things _fucking_ hard!”

They both stood, open-mouthed and gaping at him, but Steve was done. He was through. He couldn’t even look at them anymore. Not when (Y/N)’s heart was beating out a hard, pain filled rhythm in his chest. “Stay or go, I don’t care anymore, but _if_ you stay, Matt goes back to training (Y/N) without Ms. Natchios supervision, and you, _Elektra_ , are going to tell us everything you know of the Hand! All of it!”

With a hard huff of breath, Steve turned on his heel and stormed away, Bucky and Sam hot on his heels. They were nearly back to the compound before either said a thing.

“You sure that was a good idea, Cap?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, Steve. Ain’t it better to keep little miss soul sucker where we can keep an eye on her?” Bucky agreed.

“I won’t keep doing this to (Y/N). She can’t sleep, won’t eat, and spends all her time keeping tabs on them. The only peace she was finding was out her with _Hemme_ , and now Elektra’s screwed that up, too. It’s tearing her apart, and it's only been seven days. And with Loki not back, and no word from Asgard, she’s struggling…”

The fast beat of striking hooves could be heard as the galloping horse came closer. She’d been so worried about riding again, afraid for both herself and _Hemme_ , the Pegasus agreeing to the shortened form of his name for the benefit of the rest of them, but to see her up there on her giant steed, looking exactly as he’d imagined had stolen his breath.

She sat him like it was second nature, like she’d been born to ride. _Hemme_ himself had looked like a war mount; his eyes shaded red and teeth bared. His muscle had rippled with his restless feet, setting the metal of her gauntlet flashing in the dappled sunlight and the blue sheen in his spectacular feathers gleaming.

When she’d turned him, and they’d raced off together, Steve had had a heart-stopping moment of concern, but she’d ducked low to his neck as the ache had started to throb in Steve’s chest.

Now, he turned toward the sound and watched the two of them explode from the forest. Enormous wings spread, lifted high, and swept down, sending them soaring into the sky. Here, again, she looked stunning, so powerful and strong and fierce on her big black steed.

He tracked their path, and when he was sure he knew their direction, Steve ran for the garage, leaving Bucky and Sam behind, both grinning like idiots. They’d gotten his bike fixed, and it rumbled into life beneath him as he took off after his girl.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, NSFW, angst, amusing dirty talk (does that even need a warning?)
> 
> Songs: True Colors - Film Version - Trolls Soundtrack, Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, Do You Love Me by The Contours, Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen

## Chapter 12

* * *

You let the air and the clouds, the scent of fall and the feel of the sun push the worst of the memories out of your mind. _Hemmelighet_ was warm beneath you, but the air was cool, and you made a mental note not to do this without your cloak again. From far below you could hear the sound of an engine, a familiar one, and smiled. It seemed you weren’t alone in your desire to escape for a while.

A shift of your weight had the big stallion folding his wings. You dropped like a stone, throwing your stomach high into your throat. The deep dive had been a terrifying move when you could see. Now that you couldn’t, it was even more so, but you had faith in the Pegasus to know what he was doing.

The roar of Steve’s bike grew progressively closer. Wind tangled your hair and pulled tears from your eyes. The snap of _Hemmelighet’s_ wings when it came threw you forward, but you caught yourself on his neck. You weren’t in danger of falling off, but it had taken you by surprise.

Steve too, apparently, if the jump in his heartbeat was anything to go by. Even with the wind in your ears and the roar of the engine you could still hear Steve’s heart.

Flying along beside him, you gave him a reassuring smile, then a cocky one when his engine revved. He did it again, and you laughed, giving _Hemmelighet_ your heels.

The big stallion bugled loudly, swept his wings back firmly and took off down the road.

It was harder at speed with the wind bringing scents and information to you so rapidly to be able to _see_. Things were blurry, like a half-developed picture or a smeared ink drawing. It was… spooky and set your heart racing. High above where there was only clouds and sky to navigate hadn’t been so bad, but here, close to the ground with all the smells hitting you hard it was far too close to how it had been. Everything was loud, covered by the wind, and the whistling was intense to your sensitive ears.

Panic was making your heart pound, and you tugged at _Hemmelighet’s_ mane, calling off the race.

Within seconds he was pulling up, slowing his wing beats to a smooth glide and turning to land. Grass and trees and earth rose up to tickle your nose when he landed, taking a few running steps before slowing to a stop. The crackle of leaves lifted from beneath his hooves, but the wind died down, and you almost fell from his back to kneel in the dirt and drag in air.

His muzzle nudged you worriedly.

Steve’s bike died a few yards away, and _Hemmelighet_ whinnied for him, dancing anxiously at your side.

“(Y/N)!” he cried, falling on his knees beside you and gripping your elbows to pull you up. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

“Sensory overload,” you managed to gasp, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder and breathing in the calm scent of him.

“Oh.” Steve sighed in relief and reached up to stroke _Hemmelighet’s_ muzzle. “She’s okay, big guy.”

The Pegasus whickered, nudged your back, and wandered off, leaving you smiling against Steve’s throat.

“He said he'd leave me in the care of my stallion and will be over there, eating the tasty Earth grass,” you chuckled softly. Steve snickered, and you were sure he was smirking but didn’t say anything.

“How you doing otherwise?” he asked, gently rubbing your back.

You deflated. “I’m tired, Stevie,” you whispered, exhausted tears pricking your eyes. “Tired and sick and just… so damn tired.”

His hand drifted up to massage the base of your skull. “I know, baby. I know.”

“I can’t seem to turn off,” you sighed.

“So why don’t we play hooky today?”

You sat back to look at him. “Captain America plays hooky?”

His grin was decidedly crooked. “Today he does.” He popped up to his feet. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Where would I go?” you asked, following his footsteps as he made his way across the tall grass.

Your senses had settled the moment you were back on solid ground so you could watch as he made his way over the wood rail fence with an effortless hop and continued toward the bike he’d parked on the side of the road. He rolled it toward the fence, then picked the whole works up as if it weighed nothing, and set it over the fence.

He jumped back over and rolled it closer until he could prop it nearby, and rummaged through the saddlebags on the back.

“That was mighty impressive, Cap,” you called, stretching your legs out and leaning back on your elbows. You weren’t sure where _Hemmelighet_ had brought you, but Pegasi were like homing pigeons. He’d get you back when the time came. For now, you took a quick scan around, realizing you were in a farmer’s field near a stand of tall trees. Cattle lowed in the background but were a good distance away.

The scent of wheat drifted to your nose from a neighbouring field — rye from another. Here, though, beneath your bottom was only grass and earth, trees and dry leaves. The harvest would be upon this farmer before he knew it.

“Got to flex my muscles for my girl every once in a while,” he said, returning with a blanket and a bag.

“What’s that?” you asked, nodding toward the pack.

He only grinned as he shook the blanket out beside you. You scooted onto it when he was finished and peered curiously at the extra bag.

“I know how hard the last week has been. I was gonna spirit you away later after you were done with _Hemme_ , and take you out on the bike for a while. It was Wanda who suggested a picnic.”

“Steve,” you whispered as the zipper came down and the smell of the food tickled your senses. Your stomach growled so loudly; you clapped your hands to it.

A chuckle passed his lips, and you giggled in return.

“Guess it was a good plan after all,” he said as he began pulling cartons from the bag. “It’s not much, but you eat whatever you want.”

Lids were tugged from containers, and you damn near snatched the most recent one from his hands. “Oh, my god! Is that Wanda’s fried chicken?”

“I did say it was her idea.”

“Oh, lord!” you moaned, picking up a leg and sinking your teeth in.

“Hey, hey! Easy.” He grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t make me bite you, Captain,” you snarled around the chicken leg. “I will. You know I will!”

“I know you will,” he chuckled, “but how’s about you slow down and take a breath. No choking on your chicken.”

You snorted out a giggle but slowed your chewing as your laughter really did threaten to choke you.

“What?” he asked, sounding confused.

“Choke… the chicken!” you snickered, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth to keep from spitting your dinner at him.

“Huh?”

You doubled over in laughter. Evidently, no one had brought the Captain up on that particular piece of slang. You giggled until you fell over and laid on the blanket, leg of chicken clutched in one hand and smile on your face. “Sam never explained that one?”

He sighed, heavily. “Clearly. What did I miss?”

“Choke the chicken is a slang term for rubbing one out.”

“Jesus,” he grumbled, dragging his hand down his face. “No wonder Sam snickers every time I tell that story about Bucky almost choking on the chicken leg at the county fair.”

You burst back into laughter, letting the stress of the last week melt away. It didn’t surprise you when he leaned over and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Eat your picnic.”

A smirk twitched your lips. “Maybe I’m more interested in things like… choking the chicken…”

“Stop,” he growled.

“Spanking the monkey.”

“Baby.”

“Buffing the banana.” A blush had warmed his cheeks with your explanation and was now a lovely wash of heat radiating back to his ears.

“Cut it out.”

You rolled to your hands and knees. The chicken was forgotten as you crawled toward him past the open dishes. “Fisting your mister,” you snickered and gripped his thighs.

“You’re cruising toward a bruising with all your teasing, sweetheart,” he warned, voice thick and husky.

You slipped your hands up his quads, digging your fingers in at the top and stopping when your lips were no more than an inch from his. “Jerking the short arm.”

“Dammit, doll!” He snagged you by the hips and pulled you upward to straddle his thighs. “What the hell am supposed to do with a mouthy dame like you?”

“Put it to use, Captain,” you snickered, sliding your fingers to the bulge straining his zipper and licked your lips. “Do you need a five knuckle shuffle? Or maybe…” you leaned all the way in until your lips brushed his, “maybe you need me to apply some lip gloss?”

“Fuck!” He barked out a laugh and tumbled the two of you to the grass, so he landed between your legs. “Filthy, filthy mouth!”

His was on yours before you could do more than start a snicker, biting your lip and ravaging it. He rampaged, hands in your hair, groin grinding into yours, taking and taking and taking until you moaned into his mouth.

The thin fabric of your leggings was no barrier to the friction of jeans and hard cock. You jerked at his shirt, his hair, his collar and thanked whichever god had given him the nudge toward the shirt with the snaps when they rent apart. Finally able to find skin, you ran your hands down his ribs. The metal of your gauntlet made him shiver and growl a warning against your skin.

You only smiled, well aware of how much he liked the feel of sharp talons against his bare skin. Always careful, you could use them with startling precision, more so than ever. Your opposite hand delved down to free the snap on his jeans and drag his zipper open.

“Too long. Too long, _sjelevenn_.” The constant alert state you’d been living in had left little room for time with him. Exhausted and jumpy, you hadn’t been with him in a week, and you were desperate for it.

He was no better. Large hands swept beneath the hem of your sweater and tugged your leggings down. The fabric hung up on your knee-high boots. Steve snapped out a curse before turning you quickly to the side and shoving down his jeans.

The thrust of his cock into your waiting heat had you both moaning and slowing down. He paused once he was buried to the hilt to curl his arm beneath your head, sink a hand against your belly to hold you close, and kiss you like his life depended on it.

“Baby,” he sighed against your mouth and began to move.

It sent such a wave of pleasure up your spine you gasped. Your eyelids fluttered shut as your mouth fell open. Heat seemed to swamp every part of you, warm your spirit, and burn away the dread which had been a constant demon on your back.

“ _Sjelevenn_!” you cried out when the hand on your stomach crept lower to glide over your mound and between slick lips to find your sensitive clit.

“I gotcha, darlin’. I got you. I ain’t going anywhere. We’re gonna get through all this together. Always together.”

The litany of whispered words continued as he made slow, devastating love to you. Each thrust of hips was a promise. Each kiss pressed to your cheek, jaw, or temple was a declaration of his intent to stand with you, be forever at your side.

You curled your arm behind his neck, dragging him closer, needing the heat of his body like you needed air as pleasure poured through you, warming you, hauling the heady mix of emotions you’d been fighting all week to the surface.

You breathing was ragged, body on fire, heart pounding in your chest when his clever fingers closed around your clit and gave it a gentle tug. “Steven!” shrieked from your lungs as your body convulsed, coming hard and drawing him along with you.

His hiss of breath washed over your skin as you lay tangled together in the grass beneath the fading warmth of the fall sun.

It was as you calmed, the pulsing edge of your release easing, that the rest flooded in and the first tear spilled down your cheek. Another quickly followed it, and another, until they were a torrent raining from your eyes. As you shook and tried to stifle the sobs begging to break free, you were aware of Steve slipping away, cleaning the two of you up and redressing you quickly.

Like a limp ragdoll, you went willingly when he scooped you up and tucked you back in his lap. The cuddle broke the last of your resistance as you turned into his body and cried for all you were worth against his shoulder.

***

It was the wailing of a heart so broken, Steve felt his crack and bleed for her. She’d been so strong for so long, held it together so well, to finally see her break was gut-wrenching.

Her arms went around his neck, her fists clenched against his back, and he stroked her hair as he rocked. He murmured nonsense things, little hums and noises to soothe her ragged soul.

But when her tears didn’t slow, when he grew concerned she was going to make herself sick with heartache, he drew a deep breath and sang.

> _You with the sad eyes_  
>  Don't be discouraged, oh I realize  
>  It's hard to take courage  
>  In a world full of people  
> You can lose sight of it all  
> The darkness inside you  
> Can make you feel so small
> 
> _Show me a smile then_  
>  Don't be unhappy  
>  Can't remember when  
>  I last saw you laughing  
>  This world makes you crazy  
>  And you've taken all you can bear  
>  Just, call me up  
>  'Cause I will always be there

The sobs slowed, became less violent. Her hand loosened its grip on his shirt, smoothed up his back to cup the back of his neck. Her taloned hand unclenched to hang limply over his shoulder, and she sniffled softly.

> _And I see your true colors_  
>  Shining through  
>  I see your true colors  
>  And that's why I love you
> 
> _So don't be afraid to let them show_  
>  Your true colors  
>  True colors are beautiful  
>  I see your true colors  
>  Shining through (true colors)  
>  I see your true colors  
>  And that's why I love you  
>  So don't be afraid to let them show  
>  Your true colors  
>  True colors are beautiful  
>  Like a rainbow  
>  Ooh ooh ooh like a rainbow

Her fingers flexed reflexively on the word blind, but he kept going, needing to finish, needing her to understand. He loved her so damn much. So damn much at times, it was painful. He wanted to lock her up, lock her away. Put her somewhere safe where no one could hurt her ever again. To watch her relive these memories, these dark days over and over and over was killing him. But he couldn’t do that to her. It would be like caging a wild creature or clipping a Pegasi’s wings.

She would just have to learn he was here, always here, forever by her side.

> _Ooh can't remember when_  
>  I last saw you laughing  
>  Ooh oh oh  
>  This world makes you crazy  
>  Taking all you can bear  
>  Just, call me up  
>  'Cause I'll be always be there
> 
> _And I see your true colors_  
>  Shining through  
>  I see your true colors  
>  And that's why I love you  
>  So don't be afraid (don't be afraid)   
>  To let them show  
>  Your true colors  
>  True colors are beautiful  
>  Like a rainbow  
>  Ooh ooh oh like a rainbow

She sighed, her body no longer strung as tight as a drum. “You’ve been in my music again.”

He smiled and nuzzled into her hair. “Well, it’s more eclectic than mine. I know the team's not gonna let me sit out karaoke night next time. Consider it research.”

“Research, hm?”

“Yeah.” He set his chin on the top of her head and watched her Pegasus graze. The big male had lifted his head with her first keen of distress but had gone back to grazing once Steve had picked her up. “Feel better?”

“Yes… no… maybe,” she sighed and snuffled again.

Steve dug into his back pocket and pulled out a handkerchief he used to wipe her face. She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _grandpa_ , but he didn’t comment on it, only pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “You know I’m here, right? You’re not alone, doll face. You’re never alone.”

“I know, Steve.” She clung to him, limp and boneless. Just hung from his shoulders like he was the only thing keeping her up.

“I don’t _wike_ seeing you like this.”

A smile flitted across her lips and was gone. “I think this must be what withdrawal feels like. Strung out and twitchy.” A crow called, and she jumped. “My nerves are just… fried.”

“You think I don’t know?” he chastised softly. “Every time I wake up, and you’re missing I know you haven’t slept. I’ve watched you turn green at the thought of eating. You think I don’t know you shake in the shower and damn near scald yourself because you’re constantly cold?”

“Steve.” Fresh tears welled.

He stroked her cheek and kissed her quivering lips. “None of this is your fault.” Her brow was furrowed when he set his on it and continued to coax her with kisses. “I laid down a few new rules for our guests should they decide to stay. You can’t keep going on like this.” When she didn’t protest his handling of things or ask what his rules were, he knew she was at the end of her rope.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, shaking in his arms. “I don’t understand any of this. My life, our life, the _Sjeletyv_ , the Hand, the Hounds. Why is this all happening?”

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t, but we’ll figure it out. We will,” he assured her when she made to argue. “We will, and we will do it together.”

She was quiet for a long moment, her haunting eyes staring into his before a smile finally blossomed on her mouth and stayed there. “Captain’s orders?”

“Damn right.” He nodded, rocking their heads together and making her giggle.

She kissed him then, soft and sweet and so full of love it left him breathless.

“Damn,” he wheezed when she finished.

“Thanks, Cap.” She winked, her grin wide and cheeky. “So, plans to sing me any more songs?”

“Maybe later.” But he dug for his phone, tapping his way through the apps before hauling them both to their feet.

“Steve?” she asked with a confused frown.

“You know, I never did get to dance with you at Tony’s last party.”

“And whose fault is that mister I don’t dance?” she huffed.

He pressed play and tucked his phone back in his pocket after making sure the volume was up. The strings came first. He took her gently by the waist and pulled her to his chest. Though she teased, her arms were quick to go around his neck.

Steve tsked softly and tugged her left hand down to hold in his right. Surprise registered on her face, but he only smiled. “I never said specifically I don’t dance. I said I don’t dance as well as Bucky.”

“Really?” she gasped as he led her easily into the first steps of a waltz.

“And I like a dance. Not much for the,” he cleared his throat and tried not to blush, “kind of dancing you and Nat and Wanda tend to get up to.”

“I bet you’d like it if you tried it,” she quipped, then bit her lip suggestively.

“For my best girl? I’d be willing to try… once,” he murmured, gaze locked on that lip as Elvis sang in the background.

In the quiet of the field, with the calf-height grass blowing gently against their legs, Steve danced her through the fall leaves. She was light and graceful on her feet, as he knew she would be, and a flush of colour came to her cheeks.

As the chorus swelled, he brought her closer, turned her with a quick switch of feet, spun her out and back, and dipped her low.

“For I can’t help, falling in love… with… you,” he sang along and watched happiness light up her face.

“Damn. You’d give Bucky a run for his money, Cap,” she said, her face aglow with delight.

When the song ended, he kissed her cheek and lifted her, only to have her close her fist in his shirt when he tried to lead her back to the picnic.

“Nuh uh, Steve. My turn.” Her chin came up, and she stole his phone from his pocket.

“Woah, wait… _now_? Aren’t you hungry? We could eat and then-” Her metal clad finger came down on his lips.

“Steven.” She arched a brow and held out his phone. “You’ve got my favourites on here, I’m assuming?”

He nodded.

“Track twenty-seven.” She stepped back and thrust her hands through her hair, tugging free the tangles her ride with _Hemme_ had caused.

He wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to back himself into this corner, but clearly, she wasn’t letting him out of it anytime soon. When he looked down at his phone to change the music, both his brows went toward his hairline. “What?”

“What?” she asked so damn smugly he wanted to spank her pert behind.

“This?”

“Something wrong, Stevie?” She blinked, all innocent smile and adorable eyes.

“Do you love me? This is the song you want?”

She laughed, and the sound lifted his heart. “Well, _doll_ , if we’re gonna teach you to dirty dance, we may as well start where it all began.” She winked at him, and he pressed play.

He stalked her across the grass, spun her around, so her back plastered to his chest, and drew her arm up slowly to wrap around his neck. Her breath stalled as he purred against her ear, “You forget, darlin’. I’ve seen Dirty Dancing.” She whimpered when he caressed the back of her arm, the side of her breast and down to her hip. He spun her out as he had earlier, but when he went to pull her back in, she resisted.

“Nice, Cap. Very nice. But you’re in the wrong song.”

She stepped into his body, placed her hands on his hips as the beat picked up, and he swore the air _smouldered_ with the first sinful roll of her hips. A smirk appeared on her lips as she closed her hand high up on his shirt, dragging him down as she worked her pelvis into his over and over.

“Jesus,” he wheezed a second time.

“C’mon, Stevie. Don’t make me dance by myself.” Her pout was perfect, her eyes big and suggestive as she bit her lip again.

Good lord, she was sexy!

“Fuck!” he snarled, grabbing the rotating hips. He thrust his thigh between her knees and met her roll for roll.

Another loud and joyous laugh rang through the air as she threw her leg up over his hip. “Oh, come on, Captain! I know you’ve got more in you then that,” she teased as she began to grind down into his thigh.

He had to give it to her. She was hard to resist.

Steve sank deep into the grind, letting himself go. He let his hands wander to her ass, rubbing and squeezing as he’d seen in the movie. He was half hard and growing harder with every sinful swivel of flexible loins.

She moaned softly, clearly enjoying herself as much as he was, but when she went over backward, her arms lifting above her in a seriously sensual move, letting her sweater ride up and bare the smooth swath of her stomach above her leggings, he about lost his damn mind.

A giggle left her lips, her hands went to her hair, and she shook her head back and forth.

His hand slipped from her thigh when his brain turned off, dropping her foot back to the ground, but she only started up a full body roll that had him fully aroused in three seconds flat. Somehow she escaped the grip he had on her buttocks, but it was only so she could turn her back to him and tuck her fine ass into his groin. “Fuck…” he groaned.

She threw him a smirk over her shoulder, bent sensually at the waist into a position he was intimately acquainted with, arched her spine and returned slowly upright, never once losing the shake and roll of her ass into his pelvis. Her hands clenched on his thighs, her talons dangerously close to piercing his jeans as she snaked her way down his body. She twisted her way back up, rubbing on him like a cat. Lost to the music and the dance, her eyes were closed, but her smile was still the wicked, mischievous one of earlier.

He spun her back around, set his hand on her low back and danced her backward. With her arm around his neck, and sweat forming on both their skin, he buried his face in her throat and gave into his Valkyrie.

When the music ended only to slide into a new song, he backed her into the tree they’d been moving toward and lifted her against it.

Her legs closed around his hips, and she panted heavily. “Wow,” she sighed.

With their breath mingling and _Hungry Eyes_ playing from his back pocket, Steve had to fight not to rip her clothes off her body and have her a second time. “I think I need a bath in Holy Water after that,” he muttered instead, intent on making her laugh.

Success came in the form of a loud peel of it. “I will admit, it’s kind of like having sex with your clothes on.”

“Kind of?” He snorted. “That’s exactly what it’s like!” He rolled his hips into hers to prove it.

She burst out laughing. “Oh, Captain! Have I sullied you terribly?”

“Laugh it up, mouthy dame,” he grumbled. “We ain’t ever doing that in public.”

“You wanna bet, _Steven_ ,” she purred, tightening her thighs and grinding her center into his.

He pulled her from the tree and gave her a sharp swat to the behind. Not that it did any good, only sent a shiver of delight up her spine. “How did I end up with such a dirty dame as you for my best girl?”

“You complaining, Rogers?” Her brow quirked.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and drew her head to the side. Her soft moan sent a jolt of _want_ straight to his already insistent cock. His eyes drifted down to her mouth. “Not in the least,” he said, leaning in to nip her lip as her hands clung to his shoulders. “Now will you eat?”

“You sure you don’t need me to help you flog your log first?”

“Jeez, doll!” Steve shook his head, but couldn’t stop the twitch to his lips. He’d let her tease him till the end of time as long as it kept the smile on her face and her laughter in his ears.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing and slight angst
> 
> Song: Shadow by Birdy

## Chapter Thirteen

* * *

A shiver of cool air woke you from the post-lunch nap you’d fallen into, but when you opened your eyes, you realized how wrong you were. You weren’t awake, but dreaming still, for when you opened your eyes you could see.

The mountain range of Asgard rose into the clear blue sky before you.

“Sváfa,” came a familiar and beloved voice.

“All-father,” you murmured, shifting over to make room for him to sit. “Come to pester me some more?”

“Would it do any good, daughter of my heart?” he chuckled softly.

“Hasn’t worked so far.”

“No. No, it hasn’t,” he sighed.

You took his hand. “You sound tired.”

“I am tired. My sons have been causing trouble. Some of it on your behalf.”

It was your turn to sigh. “What have they done? Is this why Loki hasn’t returned?”

“He is detained at the moment. When Thor found out, he went to negotiate Loki’s release. He is still negotiating.”

“Shit,” you muttered. “Why still?”

“Neither will admit to why Loki was sneaking through the halls of the Valkyrjur, to begin with.”

“Dammit!” You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, All-father. This is my fault.”

“It is, but it is not.”

You said nothing, knowing he wasn’t finished.

“You are needed here, but this newest complication needs your more. Until you can ascertain how virulent the spread of the _Sjeletyv_ is upon Midgard, you will remain on Earth.”

“That sounds very much like an order, All-father. I am not subject to your orders in this life.”

“Do not be petulant, Sváfa!” he hissed, getting to his feet and shaking free of your hand. “Now is not the time for you to play games!”

“Games…” You nodded and glared at his back. “Like you have played games? Like Frigga played games?”

“Do not speak of her as if she wronged you,” he huffed, staring out at the mountains.

“Didn’t she though? Who else but Frigga or Freyja would know to send the black foal into hiding? Who else would have been suspicious of my disappearance? It had to be Frigga! Freyja has been gone for generations!” you snapped, getting to your feet.

“SIT DOWN!” he roared.

You sat and bowed your head. “Forgive me, All-father.”

He sighed again as he returned to your side and placed his hand on your head. “You are as a daughter to me, Sváfa, as your own mother was like my sister. Your absence has been greatly mourned, and when my sons found you nestled amongst the heroes of Midgard, I was sorely tempted to bring you home. Yes, Frigga sent the foal into hiding. Yes, she suspected dark magic and foul play, but not even she was allowed unfettered access to the Valkyrjur’s halls, and when she…” he paused and his hand lay heavy upon your head, “there was nothing more I could do. You are my force to wield as I see fit, but I do not govern you. I am not your King.”

He walked away to stand at the balcony railing.

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” you said softly.

“I know, Sváfa. I know. But as Loki has also told you, time is fleeting. Ready or not, you will have to return. The Valkyrie need their Queen. Look.” He motioned with his head, and you rose to join him at the railing.

A soft gasp escaped your lips. “No…”

“Asgard darkens. Evil lives in the heart of the Valkyrjur.”

You grasped the stone railing as pain ripped through you. A shadow rested high on the mountain. One which should not have been present in the light of day. “Tell me what you see?”

“A heart grown full of hate. A crime so dark there is no forgiveness for its deeds. The young being corrupted by the old. You are needed, Sváfa.”

Your gaze ran the length of the valley, laying eyes on a home you had sorely missed but thought never to see again. “How long?” you whispered, scrubbing a hand over your mouth.

“How does one place a time limit on the turning of a heart to evil? Each has their willpower. Some more. Some less.” He shrugged.

“Hazard a guess,” you growled.

“The turning of a season. By the end of winter, the Valkyrjur will fall.”

“If they fall?”

“You know what I will do.”

You turned away. “Then I’d best make quick work of the _Sjeletyv_.”

“And you are going to need this.” His hand landed on your shoulder.

***

You woke with a jolt to a world of darkness before your senses returned. With the wash of red, came the sound of Steve’s voice as he murmured to _Hemmelighet_.

“You gotta look after our girl. She’s strong, so damn strong, but I worry about her up in the air with you. She doesn’t see like she used to, so you gotta be her eyes.”

The big stallion whickered softly. He was well aware of your disability as you’d explained it to him shortly after his arrival. He understood it as you could see but not with your eyes. That it was permanently night time for you, and that you used your ears, nose, and touch to find your way.

Pegasi were smart, but they were still animals. The concept of sonar and noise rebounding off surfaces would have only confused him.

Still, listening to Steve talk brought a smile to your lips.

“And stubborn. Damn that woman is stubborn. She ain’t gonna stop now she’s been up on your back.” He was working his hands through _Hemmelighet’s_ mane as he talked, combing out the knots with his fingers. “She wants back out in the field, and it scares me. She’s blind, but you’d almost never know it, and then I see her take on Murdock like its nothin’. Like he’s hardly a fight, and I’m so damn impressed, but Christ! I’m so terrified she’s gonna get shot. First mission out, just take a bullet and I can’t…” His words cut off as he pressed his hands to _Hemmelighet’s_ neck. “I can’t lose her.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Steve,” you murmured as you got to your feet.

He didn’t turn around, but his shoulders slumped. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

You made your way across the grass and set your palm between his shoulder blades. “Why? You know my fear. You hold me when I break. Can I not do the same for you, _sjelevenn_? Do you have to be strong all the time?”

“Yes!” he hissed.

“No,” you sighed and slipped your arms around his waist. “No, you don’t. You can talk to me, Steve, when you’re worried or something I’ve done scares you.”

His hands curled into fists. “I’m so damn proud of you. So proud. But, fuck! I’m also terrified! I wanna lock you up, keep you safe, protect you from anything that could harm you, but then I watch you put Murdock on his ass, or ride this big as fuck horse, and you look like a warrior goddess, a… a… a _Valkyrie_ , exactly what you are, and I know this is who you are. This is what you were born to be, and my heart hurts even as it swells because I know grabbing you and holding you tight would only suffocate you.”

You clutched him to you as you rested your head on his back, knowing just how difficult that had been for him to admit. “I love you; you know that right?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, bringing his hand down to hold onto yours.

“And while I can’t promise I won’t get hurt, you know I’ll do everything I can to stay safe.”

“I know, baby. Doesn’t mean I won’t still worry about you.”

“I guess we’ll just have to watch each other's backs, won’t we?” you said, pressing your nose against his shirt.

He snickered softly. “Are you smelling me?”

“Hm. You smell good, so what?”

A bark of laughter escaped him as he pulled your hands apart and made to turn around. “So maybe you should…” his voice trailed off as he stood stock still. “What? How? What?”

You laughed and dragged your hands down your torso. “Guess it's not my ass leaving you speechless this time, hm, Captain?” you teased.

“Your hair…” he gasped.

“Oh crap! What did he do?” It wasn’t that you were vain about your hair, but dammit! It was your hair! You thrust your hand upward and sighed in relief when you encountered intricate braiding, feathers both fat and skinny, and the coolness of metal wrapped with smooth leather. It appeared Odin had gone all out. Apparently, the All-father was trying to make a point.

“How? Is Loki back?” He reached for your waist and ran his palm over the leather, metal, and chainmail. His fingers traced the intricate pattern worked into the leather of your abdomen, the metal of your bracers, and the faulds of the short skirt that protected your hips. He dropped down to his knees to stroke his palms over your leather clad thighs, down to the metal greaves which protected shin, knee, and the outer portion of your thigh.

“Damn,” he groaned softly, running his hands up the backs of your legs to grab your ass. “That’s a lot of leather.”

“You got a kink there, Cap I might not know about?” you asked with a smirk and a chuckle.

“You just… fuck I… holy crap,” he muttered as he got back to his feet. “Baby, I just…” He gripped your waist where the chainmail protected the gaps between the front and back of your cuirass. Then his hands lifted and landed on either breast, both encased in steel and made you laugh.

“I promise they’re still there,” you teased, causing heat to flare in his face before his hands moved on to land on the metal and leather guards that protected your shoulders, then stroked down your sleeves.

“Why is it all white?” he finally managed a coherent sentence.

“Tradition.” You shrugged. “It’s always been white.”

“Makes you a big target, doesn’t it?” he grumbled, continuing to touch you everywhere. “I mean, shiny silver armour is bad enough. Bright white leather seems… like overkill.”

“Was distinct. Hard to mistake us for just another fighter when you show up dressed like this.” You closed your hand around the hilt of the sword hanging at your hip and sighed in relief. It was good to have it back.

“We gonna need to give that to Bucky?” he asked cautiously.

You pulled it free of its sheath and touched the blade with reverent fingers. “Not this one.” It hummed in welcome, sounding oddly similar to Steve’s shield. “This is my _velsignet sverd_. The one Loki made was just a sword, a tool to use in the moment, but this,” you traced the runes engraved on the blade, the wings which made up the cross-guard, and the clear crystal in the pommel, “this is _my_ sword. My blessed blade. _Glemsel_.” It sang with when you spoke its name, and you tucked it swiftly away.

“You never did say. Is Loki back? Did he do this?” His question almost made you flinch.

“No. I had a… visitor while I was sleeping. Odin.”

“Shit,” Steve sighed. “What he want now?”

You turned and made your way back to the blanket. “He needed to tell me about Loki. He got caught sneaking through the halls of the Valkyrjur. Thor’s gone to try and get him out of trouble, but, as neither of them will tell the _Fullmakt_ what he was actually doing there, it hasn’t gone well.” Steve didn’t move, and you glanced back to find him staring at your ass. “I could shake it for you if you like,” you continued to tease, adding a sultry sway to your hips.

He growled a deep, dark sound and arrived swiftly at your back. “Just how do I get you out of all… _this_?” he asked, fingers flexing strongly on your waist, making the chainmail links slide against each other like a rasp.

“Buckles,” you moaned when he dragged you against his chest and pinned you there. “Many, many buckles.”

“Too many buckles,” he grumbled. “And yeah, doll face. I think I may have a leather fetish I knew nothing about. You look like something from the History channel, only hotter.”

Your entire body warmed with his admiration. “Yeah, Captain? You want to peel me outta my pants again?”

“Hell yeah!” Another wicked growl ripped from his chest as he spun you to face him, wrapped a handful of braids around his fist, and slammed his mouth into yours.

A disgruntled snort came from your left followed swiftly by a wing knocking Steve’s feet out from under him.

“Dammit, _Hemme_!” Steve snapped as the two of you landed in a heap. “What the hell?”

Other than a sharp yank to your hair, and the unfortunate connection of the pommel of your sword to Steve’s ribs, the two of you were relatively unscathed, and you sat back, astride Steve’s poor ribs to glare at the menacing Pegasus. “You’re lucky I didn’t impale him!”

The Pegasus went through a round of whickers, whinnies, and head bobs which set you blushing before he was finished.

“What?” Steve asked.

You cleared your throat and played with the knee of your greave. “He says while he was most, ugh, impressed with your earlier, ugh… prowess in pleasing your… mare, he doesn’t need a repeat performance and would like to try out his gear,” you finished in a rush.

Steve threw an arm over his eyes and burst out laughing.

You punched him in the stomach. “It’s not funny!”

“It is!” he gasped, damn near howling with laughter.

With a roll of your eyes, you got off the chuckling fool and stomped toward the pile of stuff waiting near where you’d been napping. _Hemme_ stepped over Steve and trotted after you, his ears pricked and excitement clear in his prancing steps.

“If you’re quite finished, I could use a hand,” you called to Steve, who rolled to his feet, still chuckling, to come to your aid.

He bent and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Idiot,” you muttered, but it held no heat.

Another snicker escaped him as he crouched to sort through the mountain of leather. “Huh. I kinda figured you went without gear. You’d looked comfortable enough up there without tack.”

You crouched with him. “Short flights or just for fun, yeah, but you watched him dive. Imagine doing that and then adding a sharp turn to avoid an enemy. Still easier to stay on with something to hold onto.”

He nodded and handled the head and nose guard for _Hemme_. “You know… as tough as this stuff is, it still won’t stop a bullet.”

“You’d be surprised.” You smirked, taking the facepiece from him and rising to slide it up _Hemme’s_ long nose. You hooked it over his ears and beneath his chin. A third strap was buckled under his cheek no different than a bridle. Once it was on, you touched the rune set in the center of his forehead. White leather instantly turned to shining steel, and you slammed your fist directly into it.

The Pegasus settled onto three legs, completely unaffected.

“Jeez!” Steve muttered. “He didn’t even flinch.”

“Got to love magic,” you snickered.

The saddle went on next, the cinch running under his belly behind his wings. A chest protector attached to the cinch between his front legs and up high on the saddle near his withers. It would both protect his vulnerable chest and keep the saddle from sliding back or twisting.

When you lifted the final piece, the multi-jointed throat protector, something beneath it clanked as it fell to the ground. You frowned as you crouched and closed your hand around the heavy scabbard, but when you reached for the hilt, you realized what you held and gasped softly in shock.

“Baby?” Steve called from behind you as you stood slowly to your feet.

You pulled the sword to your chest, holding it tight for a moment before you turned to face your _sjelevenn_ with tears in your eyes. “He sent this for you.” You held out your hands, offering up for the second time the sword you’d gifted him so many centuries ago. “ _Rettferdighet_. Justice, fairness, righteousness. A sword meant for a man pure of heart.”

He moved toward you, coming to a stop at the end of your outstretched arms. His hand hovered over the scabbard. From the feel of it, it had been well kept, oiled and cleaned regularly. It would be a mottled brown, a cognac colour which was darker in some places than others. The sword itself was big, a heavy thing, meant to be wielded by a strong man. It was marked with runes and imbued with much magic.

“I don’t know what to do with it,” Steve said, his voice low as if he, too, could feel the importance of this moment.

“Take it and find out,” you encouraged.

His brow arched as his hand closed around the sheath, his right went to the hilt, and you released it back into his keeping. A grunt of surprise flew from his lips when he drew the sword. “Heavy,” he muttered.

“ _Rettferdighet_ ,” you said softly. “Speak its name.”

“ _Rettferdighet_ ,” Steve repeated. Magic crackled, and he inhaled sharply.

“What do you feel?”

He adjusted his grip on the sword. “Its… familiar. Like my hand knows its weight even though I don’t. It’s heavy but as comfortable to hold as my shield.” He lowered the tip toward the ground and turned to look at you. “Why did he send this? What’s it mean that Odin is now an active participant in what’s happening? What haven’t you told me about this visit of his, (Y/N)?”

You sighed and returned to _Hemme’s_ side with his last piece of armour. “He showed me the valley of the Valkyrjur and the mountain that was home. There’s a shadow on it. A shadow at the height of midday.”

“And that means?”

“Evil. Evil has taken root in the heart of my home. An evil that is slowly turning the others to its purpose. If someone doesn’t stop it, restore order and weed out the poison, darkness will spread over Asgard.”

His sword bounced when he slammed it hard into its scabbard. He dropped it on the ground, making you flinch at the mishandling of such a weapon, but he was angry. Not just angry but livid. “Then he can stop it!”

“No, Steve, he can’t. Don’t you think he would have already if he could?” you sighed, already unhappy and in no mood to fight.

“If he really wanted to? Yes!”

“No! That’s not how it works, Steven!”

“Then explain to me why it’s you? Why it’s always gotta be you?”

“Because!” you bellowed, “Freyja was our goddess, our ruler! We were Odin’s force, his sword to use but he wasn’t our king! Freyja was our Queen! Freyja led us, ruled us, taught us everything we needed to know, but then she left! She left, and we floundered until the strongest of us rose up and became the new Queen. We are a society of women, ruled by women, and governed by women. It was what Freyja strived for, and it is what has kept us together. Kept us strong. So, yes, Steven. It has to be me because I’m it. I’m their Queen. It can be only me who turns the tide before the darkness swallows the Valkyrjur and Odin-” you cut yourself off.

“And Odin what?” he demanded, grabbing your elbows.

“Solves the problem,” you whispered.

He gave you a shake. “Explain!”

“He scorched a world, _sjelevenn_. What do you think he will do when his elite force turns to darkness?”

He let you go and stalked away to bring his hand to his mouth and scrub it back and forth. “Jesus,” he whispered. “Sweet merciful…” He bent slightly, dragging in lungfuls of air. “He’d kill them? All of them? Even the innocent?”

“If they turn on him? Yes. He won’t have a choice. If the Valkyrjur rise up against him, there will be no stopping them.” You sighed and walked toward him. “There’s time yet. Elektra and the _Sjeletyv_ take precedence, but it’s running out faster than I’d like.”

“When?” he asked, voice hoarse. He turned to face you and drew you in tight, holding you like his life depended on it.

“Before the snowfalls. I need to go back to Asgard before the snowfalls.” You’d have one season to turn things around, to take back your throne and your people.

“I’m coming with you.”

You smiled and rubbed your nose on his chest. “I was hoping you would.”

“Then I guess we’d best get started.”

“Started with what?” you asked, looking up.

Steve nodded toward the grass where his sword lay. “If he sent it, I guess it means I should learn to use it. They don’t really have guns on Asgard, right?”

“We are more the beat it with a stick till its dead sort, yes,” you chuckled. “It actually has to do with the magic of Asgard. The more… archaic technology can have issues.”

“I’m kind of archaic. Am I gonna have issues?” he teased, helping to lighten the mood.

“I don’t know. Maybe we need to work on your stamina.” You stroked a talon down his chest, catching lightly on his buttons.

Another soft growl slipped his throat. “Baby,” he crooned, “I’m more than willing to work on my stamina with you anytime you like.”

You laughed and threw your arms around his neck. “As soon as we get back, I’ll teach you how to take my armour off.”

Steve ducked out of your hold to pick up his sword. The strap went over his head, he snatched up the bag the food had been in and gathered up the blanket before quick marching toward his bike.

“Steve?” you muttered, frowning as he began stuffing things into his saddlebags.

He gave you a wide smirk and picked up his motorcycle. “Sweetheart, with the promise of what’s to come, I ain’t waiting around here!” He was over the fence and on the road in seconds.

His bike was already roaring into life when you turned toward _Hemme_ to give his cinch a final tug and check the straps were comfortable. You found his stirrup and stepped up to settle on his wide back while he shifted and danced beneath you in anticipation.

“Gods this feels good!” you laughed, dropping your heels and giving him a nudge. “Let’s go home, _Hemme_. My _sjelevenn_ is feeling frisky!”

Enormous wings and strong muscles pushed you skyward, sending you soaring after Steve.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, minor violence
> 
> Song: Machine by MisterWives

## Chapter Fourteen

* * *

When you arrived back at the compound, _Hemmelighet_ snorted out a warning and back winged to land on the roof rather than return to the barn or down on the driveway as Steve roared up on his bike. There was shouting, and lots of it, coming from the men crowding around the SUV’s parked before the doors. You tuned in to listen and hummed irately when the voice which returned to your ears was a familiar one.

“We know he’s here, Stark. Just hand him over, and we’ll be on our way.” Secretary Thaddeus Ross. The most hated man of any Avenger. After what he’d put Wanda and the others through when they were on the Raft, he was an easy man to despise.

While no one had guns out, you could smell them on all his men. Twelve in all, Tony was keeping things civil by having only Sam and Bucky with him, though, they too were armed. Throwing your senses out further, you found Wanda watching from a window.

Nat and Bruce were at Clint’s, and the newbies were all still out on assignment, thankfully - none of them were overly fond of Ross either. Vision was… somewhere. When he phased out, you often had a hard time locating him. That left only yourself and Steve as back up if things went sideways because someone had spilled the beans about Matt.

“I haven't a clue what you are going on about, Secretary Ross.” Tony waved a dismissive hand. “To whom are you referring?”

Movement in the guest quarters caught your attention. Matt and Elektra were waiting things out there. Good. Keep them out of sight and out of trouble.

“We know you have Daredevil in your keeping,” Ross huffed, crossing his arms, “There’s been chatter about a blind fighter. With the intel we have, it has to be him.”

“Secretary,” Tony simpered, “you know as well as I do that Daredevil died in that… Midland Circle incident.”

“Secretary Ross,” Steve said as he walked up to stand beside Bucky. “What seems to be the problem.”

“Rogers,” Ross nodded. “We’re here for Daredevil. We know you have him.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever met Daredevil,” Steve lied without a flinch. “What makes you think he’s here?”

“I just said,” Ross ground his teeth together in frustration. “You have a blind fighter inhouse! That has to be him!”

You couldn’t see it, but you knew Steve would have arched one brow in his you know you sound crazy look. It almost made you snicker.

“Even if we did have a person here who was blind and could fight, I’d be very interested in knowing how you found out about them.”

The word leak slammed through your mind, but who? Where? What department? “Shit,” you hissed softly.

“Indeed,” Vision muttered, materializing beside you and making _Hemme_ snort. “Apologies.” He patted the Pegasus’s shoulder. “You are much… changed, (Y/N).”

You smirked his direction. “I am much returned to myself, Vis. This is Valkyrie armour.” _Hemme_ shifted beneath you, his head bobbing. “And Pegasi armour.”

“Are you planning on making an entrance?” he asked, peering down at the men below with you.

“I was considering it. Better they think the blind fighter is me than Matty.”

“Even after the confrontation with him and his… woman, you will still defend them?” He sounded more curious than surprised.

“From Ross? Every damn time.” You nodded.

“I would not see anyone under his control ever again,” Vision murmured, his tone growing hard and a little sad. “If you are going to make an entrance, might I suggest these?”

He lifted his hand, and you chuckled. “Is that why you were out of phase?”

“Hm. I saw you returning. With its impenetrable properties, I thought perhaps it might be required should things… turn.”

“Thanks, Vis.” You took the cloak from him and threw it around your shoulders before placing the helmet upon your head. “Let’s make it memorable, _Hemme_.” The stallion took off across the roof, his wings lifting you back into the air.

While this was, perhaps, not the smartest move, revealing both yourself and _Hemme_ to Ross, it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t already know what was public knowledge in the Avengers database. The amount of trouble the Hounds had gone through to take you, and the amount of work the team had put in to get you back, plus Steve going silent on most missions in the last few weeks besides that one job would have made Ross’s suspicious. Hopefully, by making a show of it, you would take the focus off Murdock.

_Hemme_ took you high, turning on a wingtip to bring you in with the descending sun at your back. A soft wicker was his only warning before the big wings folded and you were falling like a stone toward the compound.

His wings snapped open with the first warning shout, but three strong back wings slowed him enough to have him settling lightly in the gravel where he pranced, neck arched and wings up, preening like an overgrown peacock.

“Enough,” you murmured, patting his neck.

“Put those weapons down!” Steve bellowed. “She’s one of ours!”

“Secretary Ross,” you gave a tilt of your head. “I hear you’re looking for me.” Steve’s nearly inaudible swear still registered for you.

“Looking for you?” he sputtered.

You urged _Hemme_ closer, well aware of the stiffness of the four men standing in the doorway. “A blind fighter. Isn’t that what you said? Well, here I am.” You swung down from the Pegasus’s back and made your way toward Ross.

“Agent… I’m sorry. What was your name again?” he asked.

His condescending tone and attempt to belittle you by conveniently forgetting your name didn’t phase you a bit. “(Y/N) but for your purposes, why don’t you call me _Sváfa_.”

“And just what are you supposed to be… _Sváfa_?” he sneered.

You only smiled and threw the cloak back over your shoulders. “My dear Secretary. I’m a Valkyrie of Asgard. Or don’t you remember your history?” The helm came off next, revealing braids and beads and feathers, sending your hair cascading down around your shoulders where it clung to the fur collar of your cloak.

A whispered wow came from Sam, but you didn’t acknowledge him, only continued to stand before Ross. Perhaps your grin was a little smug, but you couldn’t help it.

“And you expect me to believe you’re blind?” He scoffed.

“Have a look at my eyes and tell me differently, sir.” You tilted your head back and looked to where his face would be.

The skipped beat of his heart and short inhale of breath were a dead giveaway. “But.. how?”

“Seeing is overrated,” you quipped. “My other senses enhanced with the loss of my vision. Now, I don’t need my eyes to see the twelve men you have guarding your two vehicles. Nor do I need it to know the two standing behind you have…” you paused for effect, “six guns, eight knives and two grenades between them. And you, sir,” you raked your gaze down his uniform, “have only the pistol strapped at your ankle… and the watch on your wrist which is recording and likely relaying everything being said back to your secondary team which is…” you frowned to focus, “ten miles out to the north-west.”

“And you can fight?” he said, dismissing everything else you’d done without so much as acknowledging your skills.

“Try me,” you snarled, stepping back.

The attack came fast, but you were ready for it. However, when it was both of his detail which lunged around Ross and headed straight for you, _Hemme_ had other ideas. The one closest to him quickly found himself at the mercy of an irate stallion whose battle cry was enough to deafen everyone. The resounding crack that was the black’s faceguard catching the soldier in the chest and putting him down on the ground was loud, making everyone wince.

“Ooh, that’s gonna leave a mark,” Bucky chuckled.

“ _Hemme_ ,” you held out your hand, motioning for him to back away.

The second soldier eyed the stallion warily. “He going to come at me next?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p,’ “You’re all mine.” You could hear Steve’s heart hammering away, nerves and anger rolling off him, but pushed it all aside to find your center. You breathed, deep and slow, listening as the man circled, aware of everyone and everything in those few short seconds before he was lunging at you.

You ducked his fist, avoided his leg sweep, and moved around him when he tried to grab you. As you passed beneath his arm, you wrapped your helmet against his ass. “Too slow, soldier.” With a flick, you tossed the helmet at Tony who bobbled it before catching it.

Again the man came at you, but he was large, brutish, and clearly had a complex when it came to fighting a woman. His goal seemed to be to overpower you, but you were no ordinary human. Not any longer.

The game of cat and mouse lasted only a few minutes, but it was long enough to make him mad. He threw a fist, one aimed straight at your face. When you caught it, though, he knew he was in trouble.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you planted your greave in his thigh, ribs, and abdomen, and flipped him by his captured hand without effort to his back. Air exploded from his lungs when he hit, but the man stayed down.

“Satisfied, Secretary Ross?” you asked sweetly, returning to the side of your Pegasus.

“Very. You’ll be returning to Washington with me where you will be placed under further testing while we run genetics on your… horse.”

The four at the door protested loudly, but you held up your hand. “And what makes you think I will be going anywhere with you, Ross?”

“That’s Secretary Ross to you Agent, and as you are still an agent of this organization, you will do what I say!”

“For what purpose?” you asked, curiously.

“We want to know what the Hounds put in you. Further testing is required.” He motioned to the other men who all swiftly drew weapons.

“Secretary Ross!” Steve snapped, striding forward only to stop when a gun swung his way. “You can’t do this! Banner ran every test imaginable and got you everything there was to be had!”

“I highly doubt that. You will surrender yourself to us, Agent.” He turned his attention back to you. “You will come quietly, or we will use this.”

The item was slapped into his hand by the man _Hemme_ had taken out, but you only smiled. The collar in his hand would do him no good when you ripped it from around your throat. “That won’t work on me, Ross. I’m not a mutant or an inhuman. I am a Valkyrie of Asgard, and if you insist on this course of action, I will be forced to retaliate.” Your hand dropped to your sword, and you lifted your chin defiantly.

No one moved as electricity gathered on the air. Dark clouds swirled and gathered, filling the sky with more static. Then, the bifröst opened, and all of them jumped and swung around.

You figured Thor would be the likely arrival, but when the man who walked from the swirling current of air appeared, he was far taller with dual horns. Heimdall, Guardian of Asgard, walked toward you.

He was as big as you remembered, perhaps even bigger, moving with a fluid grace past the men whom he dwarfed in comparison. The gold of his armour, something you could sense but not see, would shine in the late day sun, but it was the item on his arm, and in his hand, you focused on.

“Heimdall.” You smiled when he approached but barely managed to hold in your surprise when he bowed deeply and settled slowly to his knee.

“Your majesty. My Lord Odin, the All-father, and your beloved guardian bid me bring you this.” He held out your shield.

“My thanks, Heimdall.” You took it graciously, having been wondering where it was.

“He also bid me return this to you, _Sváfa_ , daughter of Tove, Queen of the Valkyrjur, and remind you of your oath to return swiftly. Any and all who stand against you will be met with the wrath of the King of Asgard.” He turned his hand over and held out the circle of heavily embossed metal.

You had no idea how Odin had come to possess it, but you touched it, ran your finger along the edge over the ornate flowers and small impressions. It had been centuries since you’d been in the presence of your symbol of authority. “Heimdall,” you whispered, fear in your voice.

“You must,” he said just as softly.

“You know what it means if I take this.”

“I do.”

You sighed, your shield suddenly feeling heavy on your arm. “Do it.”

He rose up to his impressive height and placed the crown down upon your head. “All witness the return of _Sváfa_ , Queen of the Valkyrjur, beloved adopted daughter of Odin, sister to Thor and Loki.” He turned to face the gaping Ross and his men. “May any who come against her do so at their own peril.”

You closed your eyes as the weight of the title, the crown, all of it settled on your shoulders again after a thousand years. Odin had pushed you into this, had forced your hand, but whether or not he had foreseen the coming conflict with Ross, you couldn’t be sure. Either way, for better or worse, you were once again the Valkyrie Queen. Power hummed in your veins, and you felt burdened, overwhelmed by too many challenges. What peace you’d found wrapped in the arms of your sjelevenn had vanished.

Lifting your head, you assumed a mask of regality and stared down your nose at Ross. “I will not go with you, Secretary Ross. You no longer outrank me. And unless you wish to go to war with Asgard, you will get in your cars and never again attempt to force my compliance.”

“This isn’t over,” he growled, clearly angry.

“Yes,” you stated coldly, “It is.”

“We’ll see about that!” he huffed.

Rational thought went out the window with his continued defiance. Your sword was in your hand before anyone could move and you whipped it up and thrust it down into the earth in one smooth move. A burst of energy exploded out from the contact, taking the feet out from under all his soldiers and throwing Ross against the hood of his vehicle.

“Behold the mighty _Glemsel_. The Sword of Oblivion,” Heimdall intoned at your side. “The destroyer of worlds and cleanser of unworthy souls.”

“Do not test me, Ross!” you snarled, gliding forward, cape snapping and sword singing in your hand. “You have no idea what I am capable of. You come for me or my steed or my family, and I will see your soul to the afterlife so fast you will be there before your body drops!”

“I think you’d best get in your vehicles and get gone,” Bucky muttered.

“And make an appointment next time,” Tony agreed.

“Wouldn’t want you to end up on the pointy end of (Y/N)’s sword after all,” Sam added.

Steve’s strides brought him swiftly to your back. He wrapped an arm around your waist and reached up over his shoulder. He was running on adrenaline and instinct, letting his muscle memory lead, for he drew the sword from his back and brought it down with a grace he should have been lacking. “Or mine. You come for her again, Ross, and there will be nowhere on Earth safe for you.”

“Behold _Rettferdighet_. The Sword of Justice.” This time, amusement laced Heimdall’s voice. “The righter of wrongs and bringer of peace.”

“ _Sjelevenn_ ,” you smiled, leaning into Steve.

“ _Min vakre skjoldpike_ ,” Steve murmured, eyeing Ross.

“So, that’s how it is, eh Rogers?” Ross sniffed.

“That’s exactly how it is,” Steve growled.

“A Valkyrie Queen for America’s Golden hero.” Ross nodded and turned away.

You could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind. You doubted you’d like what was coming next, but you weren’t about to ask for details. There was no way you would be beholden to that man in any way, shape, or form no matter how difficult he was about to make your life.

“Be advised,” Heimdall called out before Ross got in his vehicle. “Asgard is watching. Asgard is always watching. Bring harm to our Queen in any capacity, and we will show you no mercy.”

“You would go to war with Earth?” Ross asked.

“No. Only you.” Heimdall smiled, but it was most certainly not a nice smile if the way they all scurried to get in their vehicles was any indication.

Once they were away, including the ones hiding out as a secondary force you let yourself relax. “They're gone.”

Steve spun you around and took you by the shoulders, the hilt of his sword digging in as he shook you. “What the hell are you doing!? Do you know how foolish and dangerous it is to go up against Ross?”

“I am well aware of both, Steve.”

“Then why?” he bellowed.

“Because. The choice has been made. I will not allow them or anyone to take Matt when he has been my guide in this. We promised him anonymity, and he’ll get it even if he chooses to leave.” You made no mention of Elektra, but neither had they. “And as for this,” you motioned toward your head, “you already know I have to go home.”

“What?” Bucky burst out angrily. “The fuck you do!”

You ignored him in favour of looking to Heimdall. “Guardian,” you smiled as you sheathed your sword and held out your hands.

He took them without hesitation and bowed deeply. “Majesty.”

It sent a flush to your cheeks. “Why are you here? Who watches the gates of Asgard?”

“Another has taken my place for a time.” He reached up and drew the helmet of horns from his head before kneeling again. “Odin bid me come. He wills me to assist you in locating the _Sjeletyv_. May my eyes be of use to see what cannot be seen.”

You set your hand on his shoulder. “Your assistance is welcome.”

“He asks that I also teach your sjelevenn our ways for the forthcoming journey you will make.” Heimdall looked at Steve. “Though I see the sword remembers. Perhaps my task will not be so great after all.”

“Whoa! Hold the phone!” Tony barked, marching closer with Sam and Bucky hot on his heels. “Who are you? What is this about? Where are you going? What happened to (Y/N) - nice duds by the way - and are we just blabbing it around that you're the Queen now? Also, what the hell’s the big idea keeping things like how bad what’s her name smells from me? You think I can’t cycle the air different? Or vent your room directly from outside? Dammit, (Y/N)! You should have said something! The same goes for all this… stuff you went through with your sisters. You could have said something,” he slowed his tirade, sounding very contrite. “You aren’t alone, girly.”

You threw yourself at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry, Tony. I wasn’t thinking.” You were. You had been. You were thinking to spare those you could from the pain and trauma of your past, but evidently, you’d only hurt their feelings.

“I was rough on you when it all went down. I’m sorry too, kid,” he said, hugging you tightly before shoving you back a foot. “But we are a team, dammit! Start acting like it!”

“Yes, sir!” you saluted, making him chuckle.

Steve said nothing, only turned on his heel, sword still in hand to urge _Hemme_ to follow him toward the barn. Even as the others bombarded you with questions, your senses followed Steve. He was irked with you. Maybe a little more than irked.

“Go talk to him,” Bucky murmured. “You damn near scared the life out of him with that stunt you pulled. I ain’t seen him that tense since… ever. You're gonna give the old guy a heart attack.”

You nodded and pulled away, jogging after Steve. You caught up just as he made his way into the trees and took the sword from his hand. “You could have put this away,” you said as you guided the sword back into its sheath on his back.

“Can’t. I got it out, didn’t want to decapitate myself putting it back,” he said softly.

It would have made you snicker if he hadn’t sounded so unhappy. “Steve…”

“That was a big risk you just took.”

Unable to deny it, you didn’t even try. “It worked out.”

“Because Odin is meddling. I see where Loki gets it from,” he grumbled. “What would you have done if Heimdall hadn’t shown up?”

“I’d a showed him just how difficult making me doing anything I didn’t want to do would have been.”

“And then what? When he came again, with more men, and more orders? We aren’t above the law, (Y/N)!”

You came to a stop and stared at him incredulously. “You think I don’t know that? Me? Me, when I’ve gone through SHIELD training and court training. You think I don’t know exactly how all this political bullshit goes down? Well, let me tell you something, Steven. At times politics does nothing but get in the way! Laws do more harm than good when they protect the guilty and punish the innocent, so if I have to break a few laws to do what I must to protect this realm you better damn well believe I will, because it’s not about me, or us, or the Avengers. This time it’s about all of Midgard! Every last man, woman, and child. I will not stand idly by and let someone like Ross who is more interested in what’s good for his image get in the way of saving this world!”

“So you act recklessly? Threaten him? To what end? We could have bluffed our way through, but instead, you wing your way down there like some avenging angel when we didn’t need you!”

A gasp escaped your lips as you stepped back, hurt slamming through your body no different than a blow. “Oh…”

“Baby… I… that’s not what I meant.” Steve stepped toward you, but you skirted around him to lead _Hemme_ on.

“It’s fine, Cap. I get it. Still blind. Still incapable. Still useless. I get it.” You walked on, ignoring the spike of tears.

“Dammit! Stop putting words in my mouth!” he bellowed, grabbing you by the arm and jerking you around.

“Then what? What, Steven? How am I supposed to take being unneeded?”

“You scared me, alright! Is that what you want to hear? You scared me! I’d rather face a thousand Hydra soldiers than know you’d put yourself squarely on Ross’s radar. I know what he’s capable of. I’ve seen it!” he said harshly. “Then he thinks he can just take you from me? Take you away. Turn you into some fucking science experiment? I had his death at my hands planned out six different ways before he’d even finished speaking. I would have killed him. Right then and there, and that scared me. I’ve never wanted to murder someone before. I’ve never reached that level of hatred, not even when I saw what being on the Raft had done to Wanda, but goddammit, baby. I’d a ripped him apart if he’d touched one hair on your head.”

“Steve… I…” you didn’t know what to say. You’d talked about this earlier but seeing it live, for what it was, was shocking.

“Then the bifröst opens, and Heimdall comes down to make you Queen, and I’m suddenly the one who feels unneeded.” He shook his head and looked away.

“I need you,” you whispered, the tears tipping over. “I’ll always need you.”

“Baby,” he sighed and bent to rest his forehead against yours only to pause before smacking his on your crown. “I’m worried. Where the hell did Ross come from? Why now? How did he get this intel? Does this mean we have a leak? A mole? Shit! I thought we’d cleared this up after Garry.”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder instead. “I just don’t know.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Serious angst, Full Smut NSFW…. So, the norm? lol
> 
> Song: Tomorrow We Fight (feat. Svrcina) by Tommee Profitt, Svrcina

## Chapter Fifteen

* * *

You opened the door to your shared room to find Steve sitting at the desk going over some sort of paperwork and walked straight past him, your cloak, and your shield, into the bedroom where you went face down on the bed without any semblance of grace. Armour clanked, and you groaned when the hilt of your sword dug into your hip.

“That bad?” he asked, getting up to wander over and sit on the bed beside you.

“Tired,” you whined like a five-year-old, turning your head so you could at least breath as you struggled to unbuckle and shove the sword from your waist.

You’d parted ways after seeing to _Hemme_. Steve had been called off to look at some intel on another mission he was overseeing, though likely not participating in. Bucky and Sam had volunteered to see Heimdall settled and get him kitted out with all things Midgardian. He was already familiar with the base, had been watching it for years, but they offered to show him around anyway.

It was Tony who’d grabbed you by the arm and started rapid firing questions at you.

Hours later, after he’d given you a headache - which he cured - and made you nauseated - which he also fixed - subjecting you to the riggers of ventilation, trying to make sure the areas of the compound you most frequented were as clean of Elektra’s scent as possible. Then once you went through every aspect of your dream with Odin, you’d escaped his clutches only to take a call from Natasha who was, evidently, going crazy being out of the action and succeeding in driving both Bruce and Clint just as nuts.

You’d ducked into an empty conference room to relate what had happened in the past day, had your ass chewed out a second time for going toe-to-toe with Ross, and then had her Facetime you for her to see the full regalia. She must have collected the guys and Laura in the interim because there were four high pitched squeals of excitement when you answered the call. You spent another twenty minutes tilting your phone up, down, and back and forth so they could get the full view before you gave up, had FRIDAY send Nat the video of your confrontation with Ross, and hung up on them.

Clint’s final words of, “You’re such a bra-” had made you chuckle.

After, you hadn’t even drawn a breath before a knock sounded on the door. From the heartbeat and slow breathing, you knew exactly who it was. “Come in.”

Alone for once, he walked in and shut the door behind him. “Hey, (Y/N).”

You shifted to lean against the table. “Matt.”

He flinched at the coldness in your tone. “Okay, I deserve that.”

A sigh escaped you as you flopped into a chair. “No, you don’t. I get that you don’t understand my reluctance.”

He took a seat a few chairs away.

The distance stung. You’d gone from as close as siblings, damn near twins, to _this_ in a week.

“I’m…” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ve done a shit job helping you out, but Elektra is,” he hesitated, searching for a way to explain, “my Steve.”

“Matty.”

“No, let me explain.”

“You don’t have to.” You swivelled your chair back and forth. “I've listened to you talk, Matt. A whole month where you elaborated on Elektra and her… charms. I know you love her. I know the risks you took and the sacrifices you made to be with her. I know exactly how much pain you were in when she died, and how ecstatic you were to get her back. I know!” you said harshly, your talons digging into the table. “Don't pretend I don't. Don't talk to me like I haven't lived in your pocket for the last four weeks. We practically breathed together.”

“Then you can see why I have to protect her. Wouldn't you do the same if it was Steve?”

The table cracked beneath the strength of your grip. “No. It would break me, tear a piece from me, likely kill me, but if he was _Sjeletyv_ … I'd take his head.”

“No, you wouldn't!” he refused to believe it, his fist coming down hard on the table.

You only looked at him, angry, frightened, panting for breath, and sighed softly. “Listen to my heart and tell me I'm lying.”

He was quiet for a long time before he released a shuddering breath. “I… I can't…” he whispered radiating defeat. “Why does it have to be all or nothing with you?”

His pain was so strong you could smell it along with the faintest touch of Elektra on his freshly laundered clothes. “I once told Natasha my sisters were sister in name only. Would you like to know why?” He gave an indecisive shrug, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He was going to hear this story whether he liked it or not.

“I grew up the daughter of the Queen, a princess of the Valkyrjur, but it didn’t leave me isolated like some would think. I had friends, I had girls I considered sisters, and when we were sent from our homes to take our places among the other neophytes to the Valkyrjur, my five very best friends went with me. Tyra whose laugh was like the rumbling of an avalanche. She could drink even Thor under the table. Always quick with a joke or a prank, she often encouraged Loki and me in our mischief. She was big and strong and bold with hair like a raven’s wing and skin to match. She was the epitome of what a Valkyrie should be. _By the God’s,_ she was fearless in battle.

Then there was Asta. Asta who looked like a strong wind could blow her over, but whose will was rooted in a strength, not even a mountain could rival. I’m sure she could have stood before the peaks of Asgard and commanded they move and they would have. Her quickness came from her tiny stature, and I watched her storm through a battlefield like she was lightning! She was unmatched in speed. I remember she had the most amazing eyes. Silver, like polished steel. The warriors of Valhalla wrote poems about her eyes.” You swallowed thickly to wet your swiftly drying throat before pressing on.

“Ingrid. Ingrid who sang… sang the songs of valour. She could make you weep or laugh depending on the tune. Her temper was one for the ages and matched the fire of her hair. She had freckles, hundreds of them, and a man who’d teased her that he would worship every one if she would but marry him. But we were all new Valkyrjur, and me newly Queen. She didn’t want to be tied down. Not just yet. Not when there were battles to be fought and adventures to be had.

Vigdís was a beauty. The kind of Valkyrie you see depicted in images here on Earth. With hair like the sun and eyes of blue so clear, it was like looking into a lake and seeing your reflection. She wasn’t vain though, or conceited. It embarrassed her more often than not. She’d arrive to retrieve a soul for Valhalla, take her helmet off, and have the poor man stare at her like she was Freyja herself.” You shook your head in memory, having born witness to such a thing yourself quite a few times.

“And then there was Brynhildr.” You couldn’t sit and got to your feet to pace to the far end of the table where you clenched your hands into fists and held onto your control by a thread. “If any of them would have held the title of sister, of best friend, it would have been her. She was my sparring partner. My confidant. The one I turned to when things seemed… so damn bleak. She was my consul but most of all… she was my friend. In all things,” you breathed out a shaky breath, “she had my back.”

“(Y/N)...” Matt murmured.

Your hand sliced through the air, demanding silence. “When I became Queen, it was customary to have an honour guard and what better guard to have than those I called family. Who better to watch my back than the ones I loved knowing they would never betray me. They would have died for me as I would have for them. Then…” you looked to the heavens and shook your head, smile wry and full of anguish, “we went to that cursed world. We walked onto that cursed _fucking_ world, and I watched my Valkyrie die by the thousands. Even now I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know how they were taken, separated from me, from Tyra and I, but Asta, Ingrid, Brynhildr, and Vigdís didn’t come back. We went into battle as a unit, but we came back as only a pair. I mourned them. I cried. I was devastated by their loss, but I had to keep going, fight on because I was the Queen. If I broke, my people broke, so I put on my armour, I mounted my steed, and I went back into battle.

Then, five weeks later, out of the dark walks a miracle. Asta, Ingrid, Brynhildr, and Vigdís appeared as if by magic. The joy I felt. _Dear gods, the joy_! My sisters. My friends!” your voice cracked as you curled in on yourself, hunching against the edge of the table. “It was Tyra who noticed the discrepancies. It was she who questioned their miraculous return. It was she who stepped out to greet them, motioning for my new guard to be wary. And it was she… they cut down first.”

“Jesus,” Matthew whispered.

“Another six fell before I could even comprehend what was happening. Six Valkyrie, gone in a breath of time because I couldn’t compute that my sisters, _my friends_ , the women I _loved_ , had become the monsters we’d fought.” You pushed yourself up and turned to face him. “They got four more before I got my shit together and managed to get over the shield wall. Eleven beautiful Valkyrie lost forever to the four women closest to me. Eleven souls that would never find an afterlife because I’d been blind to the changes right in front of me. Too blind to see the four _Ijå_ right in front of my face.”

When you wrapped your fingers around the hilt of the sword hanging at your hip, it hummed in greeting, and you drew it forth to lay on the table and rest your palms against the blade. “I took out Astrid’s legs, hamstrung her so she couldn’t run, and removed her head with this blade. For Ingrid, it was my shield straight through her throat. I destroyed her voice and took her head, unwilling to let that _thing_ taint one more part of her. Vigdís, radiant Vigdís… they put nine arrows in her, taking her down long enough for me to remove her head, turning her platinum hair red. But Brynhildr… she knew me. She knew my every move. How I fought. How I thought. _She knew me_! She was my best friend! My best friend and I killed her to save the others. She nearly killed me before somehow, someway, I managed to kill her first.”

“(Y/N)...” Matt got to his feet.

“And the _Sjeletyv_ … they screamed. They came out of the dark and attack, and it was… brutal. They were crazy with rage. I’d killed their four new fighters. I’d killed my four friends, and they were so angry because the whole point of the endeavour had been to get close… _to me_. They were supposed to kill me. They took my four sisters because they figured it was the only way. They did it on purpose because they didn’t think I would kill the ones I loved.”

Matt came to a stop beside you and took your arm to turn you toward him. His hands lifted to cup your face and wipe away the tears you hadn’t even realized were streaming down your cheeks.

“So, yes, Matty. If it were Steve, even though I wouldn’t want to live afterward, I would do what needed to be done because it wouldn’t be _Steve_ , not anymore. I looked in their eyes, in Asta, Ingrid, Brynhildr, and Vigdís eyes and I knew. They were gone. The souls of the women I loved, were gone. Maybe your Elektra is different. Maybe being human changes something in the _Sjeletyv_ , I don’t know. All I know is they killed every living thing on that planet. Every. Living. Thing. I can’t; I won’t let that happen here. Not again. I was the last off that world before Odin scorched it. I won’t watch it happen again.”

“You won’t have to. I came to talk to you because Elektra has agreed to tell Tony and Steve everything.”

You pulled back, not quite believing him. “What?”

“All the bases she knew of. The underground facilities. All of it.”

It sounded too good to be true. “O-kay.”

“I’m sorry for what you went through, I really am. From now on it will just be you and me working together. Though, from what I heard, you did a damn fine job kicking a little soldier ass today.”

“Yeah, well. He’s not a Valkyrie,” you murmured, collecting your sword and returning it to your side.

“Hey,” he grabbed your arm. “Before all this, you were doing great. Your progress was amazing.”

“So you weren’t… disappointed in me?”

He frowned. “Who told you that?”

“No one,” you mumbled. “It’s not important. If Elektra’s going to give up all this info, what’s she want in return?”

“Nothing. She just wants to go back to our quiet life away from all… this.” He waved his hand, indicating more than just the room you stood in.

“And what do you want, Matty?”

“I want her happy.”

You could hear the little catch in his voice and the skipped beat of his heart. “At the expense of your own happiness?”

“Don’t.” He shot you a warning scowl.

You wanted to say more but bit your tongue. Matt was a grownup and perfectly capable of making up his own damn mind even if he was making a giant mistake. “Will you promise me something?” you asked him instead.

“No guarantees,” he quipped and smirked a small grin.

“Such a lawyer answer.” You chuckled and shook your head.

“Shoot, but I reserve the right to say no.”

Knowing it was likely the best you’d get, you held out your hands and squeezed his when he took yours. “If, at any time in the future something with her feels… wrong, please, don’t brush it off.”

“(Y/N),” he sighed.

“Please, Matty! I can’t lose any more of my friends, my family to the _Sjeletyv_. After… after the war, I refused to get close to my guard, to any of my fellow Valkyrie because I never wanted to be the reason they were killed ever again. I would hate myself if I lost you.”

“(Y/N),” he gasped softly and tightened his grip on your hands. “That’s… I don’t know what to say.”

You released his hands only so you could hug him and breathed through your mouth to avoid even the faint smell. “You’re not just my mentor, Matty.”

His arms went around you, holding you just as tight. “I’m sorry for all the pain this is causing you.”

“Pain is part of life. A part I’m far too familiar with,” you sighed as you pulled back. “It’s time that has become my enemy.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I have to go home, back to Asgard.”

“Is that why you're decked out and wearing a crown?” He flicked his finger against a dangling feather.

“Yeah.”

After you’d sat and told him about Asgard, the Valkyrjur, and the mountain, and he’d agreed to step up your training. With Heimdall now here as well, you would have a seasoned swordsman to spar with which would also help.

By the time you’d finished talking, it was late, and you’d missed dinner. While Matty had headed off to find Elektra, you’d ended up on the bed with Steve.

“Matt says Elektra’s agreed to talk to you and Tony.”

“She has, has she?” he murmured, shifting closer to run clever fingers over the backs and insides of your legs, seeking out the buckles to your greaves. “What’s she want in return.”

“Apparently, nothing.”

He snorted as he worked the leather free. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“You don't go in a room alone with her. You or Tony,” you said softly, the grief of the story you'd told Matt still present, still painful enough to make your heart ache.

His hand stalled, lifted, lightly brushed the hair from your face. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered as he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“It was a long time ago, Steve.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.” He went back to unbuckling your greaves.

His touch was light, gentle as he loosened everything until he could pull the metal from your thighs and shins. It clanked on the floor before his hands were back, smoothing up the white leather of your tightly encased thighs.

“How can you be from such an advanced race and not have zippers?” he grumbled as he lifted your foot and began unlacing your boot.

“Never seemed important. Guess we just like our pomp and circumstance,” you snickered softly. “Clothes make the man, after all. Why do you think Loki wears a suit whenever he has to be here in Midgardian dress. It gives him the same air of importance his Asgardian garb portrays on that world.”

“So what’s Thor’s excuse?” he asked as he tugged the knee-high boot from your calf.

“He likes comfortable, always has. I’m sure if he could get away with it, it would be hoodies and sweatpants around the palace. Alas, he is doomed to disappointment, but concessions were made when he found his armour to be satisfactory. He’s Thor after all. If he wasn’t wading into a fight, he was starting one.”

The other boot came off, and his hands returned to massage your calves. The groan you let loose was one which would have easily been mistaken for another kind of groan by anyone walking by. “Jeez… don’t stop.”

He chuckled as his fingers inched higher, pressing and rubbing, squeezing and releasing the backs of your thighs, skirting beneath the short faulds around your hips to work your buttocks. “Feels good, does it, doll face?”

You could hear the unbridled lust in his voice and turned your face back to the mattress to hide your smile. “Yeah, Stevie. Feels real good.”

“How’s about you show me how to get the rest of his off, and I’ll make the rest of you feel real good,” he crooned, nearly purring as he settled over you on the bed.

“Promises, promises, Captain.” You wiggled - more than necessary - as you turned over, making sure to brush your ass, hips, and thighs against his crotch. He growled at you, a soft hum of sound which made you snicker as you patted the buckle resting low on your belly. “This one first.”

His hands made quick work of it, causing the pointed faulds, like a Roman gladiator’s skirt, to slide from your hips to either side of the bed. It bared the bottom of your intricately carved leather armour and showed the edge of the chain mail hidden beneath. “I wondered,” Steve murmured. “Couldn’t see you leaving your middle unprotected or only protected by this,” he traced the lines of runes and labyrinthine knots in the leather, “no matter how pretty it is.”

You chuckled softly and lazily stretched your arm over your head. “These next.” You tapped the two clasps beneath your arm. They were flat, tight latches to hold the metal breastplate together. “Both sides, _sjelevenn_.” You raised your other arm to join the first, resting one hand in the palm of the other and watching in your way as arousal grew with your ‘captive’ position. The latches came undone with speed, and his hand went unerringly to the buckles on your upper arms, releasing the shoulder guards.

“Lift,” he commanded, and you brought your arms down to press your elbows into the bed and raise your torso so he could slip it all off over your head.

It hit the ground as if he’d tossed it aside, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“How the hell do you get into this in a hurry?” he grumbled.

“Practice,” you smiled as you settled back to the mattress. “Here.” You caught the finger caressing the deep ‘v’ of your leather vest and led them down to your side where more buckles waited. It was thick and far more protective than it looked. “Plus these layers are worn almost continually when one is on duty or riding patrol. The metal armour is more for warfare or, in some cases, show.”

This time when you lifted up, he’d only undone the one side, pulling the heavy item over your head and down your arm where it, too, joined the growing pile on the floor. The chainmail wrapped your ribs like an iron corset, but the boning which held it to your ribcage was as flexible as rubber so as not to interfere with your ability to move.

“It’s like taking apart Russian nesting dolls,” Steve huffed, flipping you without assistance to your belly where he pulled a knife from his boot and simply sliced the ties open straight up your spine.

“Steven!” you protested, even as it turned you on.

“I’m sure Stark can come up with something better,” he snarled as he yanked it apart and lifted you by the back of your pants to pull it and your faulds from beneath you. Down to your final layer, he flipped you back to your back and inhaled sharply.

“I thought you’d like this part,” you chuckled, running your hands up and down your sides, over the tight leather that encased your torso and arms. Cut in a deep ‘v’ your undershirt cupped and moulded to your breasts no different than foundation garments would, but it was the heavy braiding, leather seams, and softness of the item that set it apart.

“Fuck,” hissed softly from Steve’s lips as he stroked his hand over the panels of soft leather and up to cup your breasts.

“I told you they were still there,” you teased softly as he teased you through the fabric and made you moan when his thumb brushed and circled your nipple.

“How do I take it off?” he asked even as he bent to thrust his tongue between your breasts into your cleavage.

“These… first,” you panted, holding up your arms while a spike of arousal slammed straight into your core.

He took the taloned gauntlet from you first to place with care on the closest flat surface, before tearing the bracers from your arms. They were patterned with wings, but he barely gave them a second look before chucking them aside to sink his hands beneath you and drag you higher up the mattress.

“Definitely have a newfound sense of appreciation for leather.” His fingers were already tugging lose the ties for your breeks, his big hand sinking beneath to slide his fingers down and cup your soaked core as he settled to your side.

“Thank Freyja for the ingenuity of faulds,” you gasped when his finger skated your clit.

“Yeah?”

“With how you touch me, _sjelevenn_ , how you arouse me so easily, it would be embarrassing to be caught with moistened pants so often.”

“I did notice the startling lack of underwear. How scandalous,” he murmured, nuzzling your cheek. “Such a bad girl. Maybe I should strip these clothes off you and teach you a lesson.”

Excitement shivered down your spine. “Oh, _Captain_!” You reached for the hem of your shirt and dragged it up over your head, baring your upper body to him completely, before reaching for your hair and the crown upon your head.

“Leave it.”

You arched a brow. “Really?”

“I’m… kinda looking forward to having my Queen,” he purred against your ear. “Not many people can say they made love to a Queen, and my Queen is something pretty spectacular.”

“Steve,” you sighed as his fingers continued to tease you. His mouth was on your jaw, working little kisses and gentle nips down your throat to the sensitive pulse point he loved to torment.

“Tell me, my Queen,” he crooned as he rolled up to hover above you, the fingers on your core never still, “does that make me your consort?”

He sank his teeth gently into the cords of your throat and made you moan. “Ye-yes!”

“And how might this consort best serve you?” He licked a trail down to your breasts where he licked and sucked and loved on you until your nipples were so hard and stimulated it was nearly painful.

“Just… don’t stop!” you pleaded, arching into his hands.

They disappeared from your body, but only to tuck into the waist of your pants and strip them down your legs. A kiss was pressed beneath your belly button before teasing fingers returned to your folds. “But you’ve been such a naughty Queen, cause now I know what you don’t wear beneath your clothes. How am I ever not going to want to drag you into the closest room and have my way with you when I know you’re not wearing underwear?”

A light smack came to your pussy, and you shrieked at the surprise jolt of pleasure it gave you. “You want that anyway!”

“But now you’ve corrupted my thoughts, baby,” he rumbled against your stomach as he nipped kisses to your skin. “You’ll walk by in those pants, and I’ll have visions of bending you over my desk and dragging those pants down around your thighs.” Fabric rustled and his shirt landed with the rest of your stuff as he snapped open his jeans. “I’ll think about caressing that fine ass as I take my cock out and stroke it, get it nice and hard for you.”

A whimper exploded from your lips when he did just that. “ _Sjelevenn_ ,” you moaned at the mental image he was providing.

“These pants of yours are so tight, baby,” he stroked your thigh, “you wouldn’t even be able to spread your legs. I’d have to get down on my knees and lick that pretty pussy, get it all plump and slick for me so I could wedge myself inside you.”

The tip of his cock worked in small circles over your swollen clit. “Please! Steven!”

A laugh, deep and a little wicked rumbled from his chest when he took you by the waist and flipped you to your hands and knees. “Like this, my Queen?” he purred against your ear when he stretched his body over yours. “Does… _min vakre skjoldpike_ want me like this?”

Soft whimpers and mewling cries were all you seemed able to produce as you frantically nodded your head.

“As you wish,” he whispered before pressing slowly, too slowly, into your aching core.

You threw your head back and moaned, loving the intense stretch of his cock through your quaking walls. Had you ever been so turned on? You couldn’t remember.

His fingers tangled in your hair, wrapping braids and beads and breaking feathers as he tugged at it and arched your spine. “You’re mine now. All mine.”

“Yours,” you agreed, finding yourself lifted up, spread out over lanky thighs as he worked his cock into you in slow circles and short thrusts.

It was torture and pleasure and near pain. Intense and dark and needy. His fear from earlier was mixed with his lust and his love to become a thorough taking — a claiming. A way for him to brand himself upon your soul, a soul he already owned, but you didn’t try to stop him. Only revelled in his actions, loving the dirty talk and the forceful sex.

When his teeth bit into your shoulder, and his thrusts turned hard, you moaned and gave of yourself, falling, unresisting, into the pool of dark lust and hot sex he was dragging you toward.

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded as his hand clamped to your breast.

“I love you!” you screamed, the first searing wave of release beginning to break as you clutched at his hips behind you.

His fingers wrapped around your throat. “Tell me you need me!”

“I need you, Steven,” you rasped, the burn building between your thighs was nearly unbearable.

His hips met your ass faster now. The thick wedge of his cock taking and giving and driving you both toward ecstasy. “I’m not what I once was,” he panted against your cheek. “I’m not Helgi. I can’t watch you stand in front of me, be my shield, and put yourself in danger like you did today. I can’t. You’re too important.”

You tried to reply, but his hand tightened further around your throat causing you to wheeze and your heart rate to jump.

“That’s it, my Queen. Come for me. Show me you can be a good girl and squeeze my cock nice and tight. Make me come, baby. Take me with you.”

The world whited out as unbelievable pleasure set your body ablaze. Your blood pulsed once, sending shockwaves sailing through your veins. You cried out, a wail of intense pleasure you were certain echoed well beyond the closed door of your suite, and shook as your nails drew blood from Steve’s hips. Your body actively locked around his, squeezing down, milking hard, doing exactly as he wanted and sending him growling into his own finish.

The heat of his release was warm and made you shiver as he continued to move lazily through your quivering walls. “Good, so good, baby. Such a good girl,” he whispered, over and over, stroking your throat as he kept thrusting into you, forcing your orgasm to roll on and on.

The two of you fell slowly to the side, still connected, Steve still hard and heavy inside you as your rested a moment, knowing once wasn’t going to be enough. Not when he was like this.

“Steve,” you whispered, “when I say I’m your shield, I’m not trying to take anything away from you. Because while I’ve always been your shield, you’ve always been my sword. We’re partners, _sammen som en i alle ting_ , together as one in all things.” You turned your head to look at him, even though you couldn’t truly see him. “We’re _sjelevenn_. A shared soul, soulmates, always together. I’m sorry I scared you.”

His arms wrapped around you like he was afraid to let you go. “I can’t lose you.”

“And I can’t lose you. Guess that means we’d best step up our game and watch each other's backs. Asgard won’t be like here, Steve. Not at all.”

“I kind of figured what with Thor and Loki being all Shakespeare in the Park.”

You snorted out a giggle which made him moan. “Do you even know what Shakespeare in the Park is?”

“They had Shakespeare in the Forties, doll face. I ain’t that out of the loop.” His hand stroked slowly over your ribs.

“It’s just so hard to tell with you old guys,” you sighed sadly.

His big palm landed on your ass and made you yelp. “Watch it, sweetheart, or I’ll really have to teach my Queen a lesson.”

“Yes, Captain,” you said meekly as you flexed your internal muscles around him.

“Cheeky, dame,” he growled, rolling you to your stomach where he pinned you down, proceeding to show you exactly how much you meant to him for the next several hours, until you fell asleep in an exhausted pile of limbs, sleeping in your own bed for the first time in a week.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: none

## Chapter Sixteen

* * *

Three days later, you were in the middle of crossing swords with Heimdall while Matt looked on when Steve came into the room.

The cat was firmly out of the bag. Everyone on the base was well and truly aware of just who you were now. It was kind of hard to escape it when Heimdall constantly referred to you as majesty and stood or bowed every time you came in the room. Pain in the ass, Asgardian. But his presence had been welcome, and he’d integrated relatively easily into the halls of the Avengers.

When the time had come for Elektra to spill her guts, Heimdall had stood with you. Few could match the man when it came to skill with blade or sword, and while most had only heard tales of the ‘scorched world’ he’d, unfortunately, witnessed it just as you had; his eyes both a blessing and a curse. It had been to him you’d given your report in the evenings, his eyes capable of bringing you to Asgard, of sharing his sight, when you could not leave the world you fought on.

To have him at your side this time as you stood behind Steve and Tony was a blessing.

He’d come to you early that morning when you’d been alone with _Hemme_ to express his intentions and the other reason Odin had sent him. As you had reservations, obligations, and ties to Matthew, he did not.

Should Elektra prove false, if she were merely a smarter version of the _Sjeletyv_ , an even more devious version of the _ljå_ than you had previously faced, he would take her head without hesitation regardless of Murdock’s feelings on the matter. When you’d protested, he’d simply waved a dismissive hand. He had his orders, and they were not ones you could overrule. If Elektra were a threat, he would end her.

While the sword he carried was not Hofund which opened the Bifröst, it was more than capable of doing the job to take off someone's head.

The meeting - interrogation - had taken place in a conference room Tony had rigged to constantly circulate the air out past Elektra, making it comfortable for you to be there as they spoke. Already waiting, you wondered if you were the only one who caught the small grimace which quickly crossed Elektra's face when she’d arrived.

Had she expected you to just let her waltz into command central? Yeah, right. That would be the day.

When she’d started to talk, relating her time with the Hand, the first memories of coming out of the vat and the oil-like slick of the resurrection elixir made from the dragon’s ground bones, you felt a chill streak your spine. Was this, then, what had been done to your sisters? Was this the grizzly end they’d faced?

It made you nauseous to think about it, but you put on your emotionless mask and refused to let your discomfort show.

She spoke of training, of being what they had called The Black Sky, of Alexandra Reid and the other fingers of the Hand. Of being sent out to fight and kill and feed when Alexandra wanted something done, and how she was told repeatedly she was ‘ _serving life itself_.’

She talked of facing Matt and the other Defenders and remembering, in bits and pieces, the life she’d lived before being the Black Sky, and how through Matt’s determination to not let her go, she’d remembered who she was. Then, she’d turned on Alexandra, killed her, and seized control of the Hand.

“Why?” you’d asked. “Why take control of the Hand? Why not kill them and end it all?”

She’d looked at you, and you could not see her eyes, but you knew hate when you felt it, though her face didn't show it. “I wanted the elixir and to get it, I needed the soldiers of the Hand to dig the bones out from beneath Midland Circle.”

“What were you going to do with it?” Steve had asked, following your line of thought.

“I would have turned those I deemed worthy.”

Silence had descended upon the room. Was she joking? 

“Unfortunately,” she sighed, “everything was buried under rock and building when it all came crashing down.”

Apparently not.

For a reason yet unknown, you didn’t quite believe her. Whether it was simply your innate distrust of who and what she was, or a far greater instinct, you didn’t yet know.

After her recitation, she'd given an explanation of how she’d managed to get Matt out from under piles of rubble which, still, didn’t make much sense. She’d made a vague reference to a crawl space which opened up beneath the bones of the dragon’s tail when the building collapsed. Air pockets and crevices she’d used to drag Matt to safety when he took a blow to the head, rather than remain and be crushed to death but it all seemed… sketchy.

“Dragons,” Heimdall had rumbled. “There have not been dragons on Midgard since…”

“Since when?” you’d asked.

“Since the breach from Muspelheim many millennia ago, when the worlds aligned and a small fissure opened between them. Many escaped the realm of fire.”

“Wait, what do you mean three worlds?” asked Tony.

“Muspelheim, Midgard, and K’un-Lun.”

“K’un-Lun is where the Hand originated,” Elektra murmured, her attention on Heimdall.

“You mean where they were banished from.” He eyed her harshly.

“Mm, it is still their origin.” She only shrugged.

Heimdall clenched his jaw, his dislike of her flippancy clear before continuing. “K’un-Lun exists in a dimension outside this one. A long time past, when Odin was still young, the three worlds aligned in an unforeseen crossing. K’un-Lun crosses into Midgard’s plane of existence every fifteen years, but at that time, Muspelheim did as well. This was not the great alignment as when Thor fought the Dark Elf Malekith, but a small… fluke. Quite a few of the fire dragons of Muspelheim escaped through a fissure into both Midgard and K’un-Lun. While the monks of K’un-Lun were more than capable of subduing and taming the beasts, Midgard was not.”

“Whoa…” Tony held up his hand. “Is that where the mythology about dragons comes from? There were actual dragons on Earth?”

Heimdall nodded slowly. “Some perished quickly, the climate here much colder than Muspelheim. Some adapted, and as man crossed the Earth, they came across what remained of the beasts. More lizard than fire. Some with wings, some without. Unable to breed without the lava sands of Muspelheim they eventually died out to become myths and legends.”

“So, when Danny spoke of fighting a dragon in a cave in K’un-Lun to become the new Iron Fist… he wasn’t kidding?” Matt muttered, his disbelief evident.

Heimdall shook his head. “I cannot speak to the validity of that claim. Only when K’un-Lun connects with Midgard am I able to see the valley of the monks, but yes, there are dragons still in K’un-Lun.”

“And dragon bones is where this… elixir of life comes from?” you asked Elektra.

“As it was explained to me, yes.” She sighed and pushed from the table to stand and look out the windows at her back. “Stick, the man who was both Matthew and my mentor once explained to me how the Hand came to be banished. When the elders of K’un-Lun had come together to study how to harness their Chi, it was with the intention to use it to heal. But the five I spoke of; Alexandra Reid, Madame Gao, Bakuto, Murakami, and Sowande, were heretics of the order. They wished not to heal but for immortality - power and the ability to regenerate themselves again and again, and were banished for it.”

“How did the dragons come into play?” you asked.

“Alexandra only said there was one who taught them much when they arrived here after leaving K’un-Lun. This mysterious one showed them the process. How to use the elixir to return the dead to life or restore one close to death.”

“And how to feed on a soul to stay healthy?” you snapped, unable to help yourself.  

She only turned her head to look over her shoulder. “Yes. The five were… like me. The others, the army she had created were not.”

“Foot soldiers,” Heimdall murmured.

“Most likely,” you agreed.

“It matters little,” she said, sighing softly. “The Hand is dead. What remained of the army was beneath Midland Circle when it went down, as were Goa and Murakami, and without the elixir, it is impossible to create new soldiers.”

“Stick killed Sowande before Danny was kidnapped,” Matt added.

“Bakuto was sent to stop Colleen Wing and Claire Temple. And, as the building blew up and both of them made it out alive, I can only assume he, too, is dead. The only other… _ljå_ that I am aware was Nobu Yoshioka and he is also dead. There was only enough of the elixir to bring one of us back, and Alexandra chose me. The Black Sky.” She turned to face the room, leaning back against the window as she did. “They spent countless years searching for more bones, more dragons to use in their never-ending quest. Wherever the Hand found them, they would dig holes under the cities to retrieve the bones. But the removal of the bones, for some reason, destabilized the region destroying several cities, including Pompeii and Chernobyl.”

“Jesus!” Steve pushed back from the table. “And you were gonna do this in New York!?”

She shrugged. “It is what it is.”

He turned away in complete disgust, and you wrapped your arm around Steve’s waist when he appeared about ready to explode.

“If it makes a difference, I was not aware the… souls I was taking would be destroyed, nor did I know taking small pieces would do harm. Alexandra said that while the elixir gave us life, returned us from the dead, and healed fatal wounds, it was the souls which sustained us. Had I know I was doing such… harm, I would have tried to curb my appetite earlier.”

You said nothing, unable to absolve her of what she’d done, even if it was unwittingly, and uncertain of her sincerity. Instead, you turned your attention to something else she’d said. “This… _one_ you spoke of. The one they met in the East when the Hand was fresh from K’un-Lun. Where is it? What or who is it?”

“Dead?” she flicked her hair back. “How am I to know? Alexandra spoke of it only the once.”

Again there had been the slightest inflection of… something in her voice and mannerisms, Matty’s too, as if he knew she was lying as well.

“Elektra.”

It was all he needed to say before she was sighing. “It is nothing more than a hunch. I have no way of knowing if it meant anything.”

“What?” you asked cautiously.

“Gao. She kept a place in the mountains of China that few if any knew of besides the fingers of the Hand. They spoke of it, once, when they thought I wasn’t around to hear. They made mention of taking me there.”

“Show them.”

It was a command and Elektra knew it. “I have only a general idea of where it is. Not a definite!” she snapped.

“I don’t care.” It wouldn’t matter. A partial location would be easy for Tony to narrow down and Heimdall to check.

“And the others, too. Start mapping, Elektra.” Tony placed his palm down on the table and a world map lit up. “I’ll have lunch sent to you,” he said as he had also pushed away from the table and left the room. He appeared rather disgusted with her as well when he left.

Steve made to pull you away but you resisted. “Elektra?” She looked up from the map. “Have you ever heard of The Hounds of Hydra?”

“Hydra? Who hasn’t heard of Hydra?” she huffed.

“I’m asking specifically about the Hounds.”

She looked back down at the map. “No.”

There was no inflection change, no microexpressions, and no heartbeat to tell if she was lying. But you didn’t believe her for a moment. She knew of the Hounds the same way she knew of Hydra. The Hand had, likely, had dealings with them at some point.

You’d walked out of that room feeling dirty, but you needed her assistance to find the others Sjeletyv. You had no choice.

Now, three days later, you lowered your sword when Steve came in and looked at him hopefully.

“We’ve found a possible target. We need Heimdall to take a look.”

“I’m at your disposal.” Heimdall tilted his head.

“Steve?” you murmured as you made your way to his side.

He brushed your hair from your sweaty face. “We’re just going to go up high enough in the quinjet for him to have a look. If anything pops, we’ll plan an insurgency and go from there.”

“And that other thing?”

Tony was in a piss poor mood and had been for three days after combing through every bit of communications data only to find squat. How Ross had gotten wind of Daredevil’s whereabouts hadn’t come from here.

Steve shook his head. “Still checking.”

You huffed out a sigh. “And the rest of Elektra’s intel?” you asked, well aware Matt was listening to every word.

“Nothing. Everything's quiet on all of them. We can only assume she’s right and the Hand really is gone.”

“Good.” But you wouldn’t be happy until this place in the mountains was thoroughly checked and you were assured the only _Sjeletyv_ on Earth was the one living under the Avenger’s roof.

***

It took Faye four days to plan the op. Even then the best she could do was get you through the gates. There was no Intel, no drawings, no blueprints anywhere of the monastery Tony had found and Heimdall had tried to search.

Tried because the main portion of the monastery was beneath the mountain and something about it made it impossible for Heimdall to get a decent read on. To say Heimdall was frustrated would be an understatement. He’d spent those four days drilling Steve in swordplay, working your _sjelevenn_ hard, but as in all things, Steve was excelling.

He found it… exhilarating. Whether it was just his innate talent, the ability that had followed Steve all his life to analyze and remember every nuance of everything Heimdall taught him, or if it was more the case of his soul and body remembered when his mind did not, you couldn’t have said for certain.

But, you stood to the side and watched in your way as Steve swung a sword. As the muscles bunched and pulled, stretched and flexed, and the ringing of steel on steel could be heard on the air. They trained in the open field to the north of the facility and often drew an audience. While Steve wasn’t Asgardian, his enhanced super soldier strength, speed, and stamina were enough of a challenge to give Heimdall a good workout once Steve had caught on. Add in the vibranium shield, something Steve was already well used to, and his skills in hand-to-hand combat, and the two of them were something else entirely to watch.

When Bucky had gotten in on the action as well, asking if he too could learn, it had surprised you. But he’d smiled that boyish smile, the one he’d likely used to charm the ladies in the past, rubbed the back of his neck a little sheepishly, and muttered something about knights and roundtables and things he remembered as a boy.

Heimdall hadn’t minded, and with Bucky’s arm, it wasn’t as if he needed a shield. And, once Steve and Bucky got going at each other, well, all bets were off and they turned into giant children. Entertaining but giant children.

All that was put to the side, however, as you stood before the team, listening as Faye laid out what she could. Once you got inside… all bets were off. When she finished, you held up your hand before anyone could leave to get ready.

“If, as we suspect, these are soldiers of the Hand and _Sjeletyv_ , they are extremely dangerous,” you reiterated.

Around the table were gather Wanda and Vision, Sam, Clint and Natasha - Bruce having remained behind at the farm, to his counterpart’s annoyance - Tony, Bucky, Heimdall and Steve. They would all be going in with you while Faye ran point from the jet with Grant as her back up. Along with your team, in a decision you weren’t sure you agreed with, Matt and Elektra were also coming.

Elekta had fought to be involved, stating as the former leader of the Hand, she could be of assistance, and Matthew refused to stay behind if Elektra was going.

“Yeah, yeah. We get it,” Clint huffed, crossing his arms.

“No, feathers, you don’t.” You shot him a glare.

“She’s right,” Matt agreed. “They are faster, stronger, and damn near silent. Don’t underestimate them.”

“They won’t hesitate to kill… and eat you.” Elektra’s addition had everyone looking her way.

“Stick together. If, as I suspect, the other who taught the Hand is _ljå_ , you will not engage. You will inform me, and I will come to you. Do I make myself clear?” You pressed your hands to the table and looked at each of them in turn, waiting for nods of agreement. “Good.”

You’d had the time once you knew the op was a go, to speak with each of them privately, away from the listening ears of Elektra. Something about her just… didn’t sit well but it was more than simply her being _ljå_. You’d had centuries to study people and though the tells weren’t there, you just knew she was lying but about what and why… that still escaped you.

The biggest question mark came with the elixir. Was there more? Was this place she had so begrudgingly given you the location for a stockpile? Was she leading the Avengers into a trap?

You just didn’t know and that unknown set you on edge.

“Everyone suit up,” Steve said. “We’re wheels up in thirty.”

The others began to file out, but when you turned to go, Tony touched your hand.

“Lab,” he murmured.

“Now?”

“Yes, now.” He rolled his eyes and sauntered toward the door.

You followed him out, Steve on your heels, while the others went to get their gear together.

“I heard a rumour your _sjelevenn_ may have sliced you out of your under armour.” Tony chuckled softly.

“Steve!” you barked.

“You need protection, dammit, and chainmail ain’t gonna stop a bullet!” Steve huffed.

You only rolled your eyes and followed Tony through the door. “So, what you have in mind, mad scientist Stark?”

Tony snorted. “Excuse me; Bruce is the mad scientist. I’m the intrepid inventor.”

“And, intrepid inventor? What have you invented for me?” you quipped.

He poked a finger into your leather covered abs. “Take that off.”

“Huh?”

“Off! Take it off!” he snapped. “We don’t have all day.”

“Jeez, okay, okay.” You dragged at the straps and buckles on one side, while Steve went after the others and pulled the heavy leather over your head.

“Damn,” Tony muttered when it came free. “Lucky bastard.”

“Don’t make me hit you, Stark,” Steve grumbled when Tony continued to stare at your undershirt.

He flicked his hand in dismissal and wandered over to his workbench. “C’mere, your majesty.”

“Don’t make _me_ hit you, Stark,” you growled, setting Steve snickering quietly behind you.

“Everyone’s so mean to me today,” he pouted before picking up something lying on the table. “And after I went to all this work.”

When he turned around, he held a small diamond shaped item in his hand. “What is it?”

“Compact armour.” He stepped forward, hesitated a moment, then pressed the cool metal to the skin over your heart. “I had FRIDAY take the measurements, but I can tweak things if it’s too tight.”

Not unlike his own armour, the device began to morph and unfold, feeling strange and a little spooky when it wrapped over your chest, around your waist, and up your back to reconnect with the front at the top of your shoulders.

“Wow, Tony…” Steve gave a low whistle.

“What?” you asked, pressing your hands to your abdomen only to come in contact with ridges and grooves. Tracing one, the shape became familiar and you gasped, “Tony!”

Steve took your hand and lifted it to your chest where your fingers contacted smooth metal, and across to your shoulders where the final pieces unfolded to create the same guards as your Valkyrie armour.

“Two more,” Tony murmured, crouching to hook another, smaller diamond into the ties of your boots. “And last but not least…” He stood and took your hand and began loosening the bracers on your forearms. While they came free, the additions he’d added to your shins were in motion, wrapping your calf and thigh. “A pair of bracelets worthy of a queen.”

The metal closed like cuffs, and when you touched them, you could tell he’d made them look like pretty pieces of jewelry, but when they, too, activated, you could feel them climb your forearms.

“Damn.” Steve shook his head. “That’s… something else.”

Only the faulds which sat low on your waist and the leather undershirt, pants, and boots remained of your original armour, everything else felt like Iron Man armour. “Tony… I…” You were torn between being incredibly grateful - he’d put in an exceptional amount of work for the greaves encased your entire lower leg and thigh, the bracers your entire forearm, and both, when you ran your fingers over them, were patterned no different than your original gear - and a little sad at replacing what had kept you safe for centuries.

“I’m pretty sure I had the same look on my face the first time I retired an Iron Man suit,” he chuckled softly.

“Oh! I-”

He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

You reached out and hugged him. “You got it all so perfect. Thank you. I will wear it with pride. It is white, right?”

“As you should and of course it is!” he boasted, preening a little when you let him go. “Here.” He lifted your helmet from the table as well. “Steve told me about the difficulty you had riding _Hemme_ , so… I tweaked this too.” He placed it down on your head. “The bracelets and additions to your boots you can wear all the time. I’ll have to figure out something different for the… chest piece as I wasn’t aware of your,” he coughed and you could hear the smirk, “risque undergarments but all link together. Activate one and all will go. For the helmet, though, I’ve added a filter to cut out the wind noise.”

Your eyes watered with unshed tears. “Tony…”

He cupped your cheek. “None of that now, Highness.”

“Ass,” you huffed and kissed his cheek.

“There’s little miss feisty,” he snickered. “I’ve missed her with all this worry lately.”

You sighed softly. “You know what, Stark? Me too.”

“Once we get this monastery taken care of, I think we need to celebrate.” He smirked Steve’s direction. “You up for karaoke, Cap?”

Steve groaned. “I knew it was coming.”

“Yeah you did,” you laughed.

“Well, then,” Tony clapped his hands together, “if everything feels good,” you gave him a nod, “let’s get this show on the road.”

A shiver of foreboding worked its way up your spine as you headed out of the lab leaving your old armour behind.

That part of you, you’d always listened to, the instincts which had served you in your Valkyrie lives were alive and kicking in your chest. Whatever was waiting in that monastery and the trouble with Elektra, you strongly believed all would come to a head in the next few hours.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Fighting, bloodshed, swearing
> 
> Song: Paint It, Black by Ciara

## Chapter Seventeen

* * *

The quinjet landed, and you were the first one off, the need for a clean breath of air imperative. Steve followed you out, and his hand squeezed your shoulder as you dragged in another lungful of air. Tony had tried his hardest, but the enclosed space hadn’t allowed for much leeway before the smell of _Sjeletyv_ was invading your nose.

The second jet landed, and you grimaced when your stomach rolled. It probably would have been better to ride in the other one, but you didn’t trust Elektra. Putting her in a plane with people who she could feed on if she turned on them wasn’t going to happen, so you’d made the best of a bad situation, and Tony had worked hard to see the air cycled regularly.

“You alright, dollface?” Steve murmured.

“Yup,” you wheezed as you held your breath, feeling the sun on your face and the bite of snow in the air. The breeze was crisp with the scent of wet rocks, snow, earth, and from a short distance away, the smell of old stone.

“You sure?” he questioned, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling your back to his chest.

The armour Tony had provided blocked out his body heat, but his scent, the scent that was all Steve, the one like no other, drifted to your nose and you inhaled deeply. It settled your jumping stomach and kicking nerves instantly. “All good, Cap.”

As the others exited the jets, you turned to face Steve, set your shield down to rest against your leg, and lifted your hands to his face. His helmet yet hung from his hand, giving you unrestricted access to him. Your touch was light, gentle, careful as you ran your gauntlet covered hand over his hair and down to trace his features: brow ridge, cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. Your fingers walked his jaw and touched his lips. They drifted down to catch at his collar, down further to trace the design and pattern of his suit.

You settled your hands on his waist. “Steve?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah, baby?” he murmured, his pulse thrumming in his throat.

“Promise me you’ll listen.”

“(Y/N).” The voice of the dominant and sure Captain growled from him.

You lifted your head, regal and strong in reaction. “If a _ljå_ from my past is somehow alive in that place, I can’t worry about it and you, Captain.”

“I won’t leave you in there alone with it.”

“And if it cuts you, you die.” There was no denying the inevitable.

“It won’t.”

“Steven.”

His hands, covered in his customary half gloves lifted to cup your face. “We are better together.”

“This isn’t something you can fight, _sjelevenn_.”

“But you can. I trust you to get it done, (Y/N). That don’t mean I’m walking away. I’ll stay out if it if I can, but I’m not leaving.” He kissed you on the forehead and turned to face the others. “Everyone’s got their orders. Let’s go.”

Bucky brushed his fingertips over the back of your hand. “We got this, (Y/N). Stop fretting.”

“Can’t,” you whispered. “Gotta get this done.”

You picked up your shield and walked into the snow. It appeared pristine to you, sheared smooth from the wind in this high mountain pass, reflecting back as if it was solid until you stepped out and sank to mid-calf. According to what the others had said, there had been no sign of anyone coming or going for some time, but the buildings were too well kept for the place to be abandoned.

Clint jogged over and nudged his elbow to yours. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, brat.”

Along with the quiver and bow on his back, the archer, and your first mentor was carrying a small duffle. “You remember what I said, feathers.”

“Don’t worry about us. Nat and I’ll be fine. You concentrate on figuring out if there are,” his attention darted toward Elektra, “more of them.”

“Don’t trust anything in there,” you said softly, gripping his hand. “Everyone who isn’t one of us is the enemy.”

“Roger that,” he said and moved off to join Natasha.

Wanda soon joined you instead. “(Y/N)... you worry?”

“Place has got bad juju,” you muttered, feeling it in your bones as you got closer to the gates. On high alert, you were searching for any sign of movement.

“I agree,” she murmured. “It resonates evil.”

“Are you going to be able to handle this?” you asked quietly, knowing the position you were putting her in, asking her to use her powers to take lives.

“These… _things_ are no longer living,” she snarled.

The scent of her magic filled your nose. “Wanda, I’m sorry you had to see-”

“I am glad I did,” she cut you off. “I am glad for now I see what could be and I, like you, will not allow that to happen here.” She drifted back to join Vision.

Heimdall moved closer. “You need only ask.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I won’t.”

“Still, the offer stands, majesty.”

“Thank you, Heimdall.” The offer he spoke of was to see your _sjelevenn_ removed from the proximity of the _ljå_ should you wish it. While you wanted to accept, you knew Steve would never forgive you if you did.

The gate, when you reached it after slogging through knee-high snow, was a single panel of solid wood, held closed by an enormous beam across the interior.

“I could blow it,” Tony called, his weapons warming up.

“Let’s not announce ourselves if we don’t have to,” Sam said. “Place gives me the creeps.”

“Too much snow to get it open anyway,” you said and smirked at Clint. “How’s about a boost, feathers?”

He snorted and shook his head. “How’s about you use someone who’s built for that sort of thing.”

Heimdall chuckled from his place a few feet from the gate. “Shield.”  

You tossed it to him. As you ran for the Guardian, those who could fly were already on their way over, Tony grabbing Clint with a customary snide remark, while Vision picked Natasha up more gently to head over. Steve and Bucky ran up the wall to either side of the gate, catching the top of the stone wall as you leapt to the shield.

Heimdall shoved, and you flew through the air, gave a flip and landed lightly to sink to your knees in the snow a second time. “Matt, Elektra.” They followed you over in the same manner, landing one to either side of your position.

“What about Heimdall?” Matt asked.

The Guardian landed in the middle of the courtyard a good ten feet beyond the gate.

“He’ll jump,” you chuckled as Steve and Bucky landed.

“Fucking Asgardian show-offs,” Bucky grumbled, making Heimdall laugh.

“It is good to be a God,” the big man rumbled.

You slogged forward to collect your shield and drew your sword. “Faye?” You weren’t wearing an earpiece like the others but had tucked it down inside your armour where you could still hear and be heard. Having it in your ear when that was how you saw the world was not a good idea.

“From what I can tell, that building straight ahead leads into the mountain. If my calculations are correct-”

“Which they always are,” Grant quipped in the background.

“-once you get inside there should be a long hallway that will lead back into a stairway or tunnels, something that will descend into the mountain. I don’t know whether coms will work outside the rock, so… you may be on your own once you’re in there.”

“Got it,” Steve said, striding forward toward the stairs.

He was three feet from them when both you and Matty shouted. “Wait!!”

Steve froze as you bolted forward. “Shield!”

The arrows coming out of the building clanged when they connected with the vibranium. Two more skimmed off yours before the enemy charged from within, streaming down the stairs in twos and threes.

“Fuck,” you heard Bucky swear before the shots began to fire in rapid succession.

Sword already drawn, you separated from Steve. The smell cinched it for you. “Foot soldiers!” you barked and waded in. Time held no meaning as you tuned out everything but the rustle of clothes and the sound of the snow shifting underfoot.

Blood soon filled the air, layering its coppery scent overtop of that of decay. Its warmth coated your hands and landed on your face. Steel sang through the air only to connect with your shield or your sword. _Glemsel_ sang, the battle cry of the Valkyrie Queen unheard in generations, a song of wind and steel and sweet vibration as the blade sliced and heads flew.

When silence finally descended, when all that remained was the beating hearts of those who fought with you and the one whose chest remained silent, you lifted your head and removed your sword from the last of the fallen. “How many?” you asked.

“Jesus… (Y/N),” Sam whispered awe and a little fear in his voice.

“How many?” you asked a second time with a little more growl.

“Thirty, Queen Sváfa,” Heimdall said. “Ten of those were yours.”

“I’m well aware, Heimdall.” You swung your sword out and down, flicking it hard toward the ground and sending what blood coated it flying.

“You are… far more formidable than I gave you credit for,” Elektra murmured, repeating your action with her dual katana.

You tilted your head in acknowledgment and moved toward the stairs. When no one followed, you paused at the top. “What?”

“We’re all having a hard time reconciling the blood splattered warrior queen with the woman who once tripped over her own pant leg,” Clint chuckled.

“That was one time! I can’t be the only person to catch the heel of their stiletto in the cuff of a suit pant! I refuse to believe it!”

Steve snickered as he bound up the stairs to your side. “And there she is.”

You smacked him in the chest. “Shut up.”

“You’re looking a little feral there, doll,” Bucky added, the smirk clear in his voice.

A vicious smile appeared on your lips. “I believe the word you want is ferocious.”

“You got that right,” Nat smirked. “Damn. I feel like a proud aunt.”

“How do you think I feel?” Clint snickered.

“I’m the one who trained her,” Matt chuckled.

“I think you mean, retrained. I taught her everything she knows!” Clint huffed.

“Hate to break it to you, feathers, but this was all Tove.” You tightened your grip on your sword, feeling her gauntlet press against your fingers.

“Less chatter, more work,” Faye huffed, breaking up the moment. “With this added bit of information, I have to advise extreme caution. Thirty baddies as the first wave of defence can go one of two ways. Either they threw everything at you, hoping to drive us away.”

“Or?” Steve asked.

“There’s even more waiting inside.”

“Great,” Clint sighed and jerked the duffle back on his shoulder.

“All we can do is go forward.” Without waiting, you walked beyond the doorway, into the dark unknown.

***

Steve glanced a final time at the others before following her through the door. Stunned. That was the only way to describe the faces of those around him. While he and Bucky had both seen it, had watched (Y/N) slip into her other… persona, the one of the kickass warrior queen, the Valkyrie with skills beyond their comprehension, this had gone even beyond that.

She had played with Matt. She had trained with Heimdall. Here, in the heat of battle, she’d had no mercy and fought without equal. Ferocious didn’t begin to describe the way she’d looked. A fury was closer, and now, with her white armour covered in blood, he understood why they wore white. Even he would have thought twice about engaging a woman who looked like a blood-soaked angel of vengeance.

She’d tied her hair back in a single braid, foregoing the beads and feathers and leather bits she had gradually worked out of her hair and left sitting in a decorative bowl in the bedroom beside the crown she continued to ignore.

He’d watched her take them out, fascinated by the pictures or runes on each bit of bead. The black feathers were from ravens, she’d said, the ones Odin sent as messengers. The white from Freyja’s first Pegasus - _Kriger_. When he asked how she could be sure, she’d only shrugged. They had been passed down, generation after generation from Freyja herself, heirlooms like her gauntlet or cloak. It only made sense that Odin would return them as well.

The only bit of ornamentation she’d returned to her hair was a single silver bead the length of Steve’s thumbnail. It had been a gift and always brought her luck. When he’d asked who from, she’d smiled at him and he knew. He’d given it to her, likely as Helgi. 

She’d had to finish her hair later when he’d tossed her on the bed and proceeded to show her how he felt about that. He’d stopped finding those little moments weird and just accepted that his soul knew when his mind didn’t. He’d get a little lurch in his chest, a swelling of pride and deep love, and would just dive right in.

He was beginning to love it when that happened because of the smile it put on his girl’s face. She was always so proud.

The first night after Heimdall had tried to beat him into the ground, she’d growled like a wolf and damn near ripped his clothes off, muttering something about _so fucking delicious_ , and _muscles_ , and _swinging a damn sword like a hottie_. She’d quite literally jumped him, crooning about if he had sore muscles she was fine with doing all the work, but dammit she’d wanted him all day, and she was going to have him.

It was hot as hell, and he’d had no complaints. She’d been sexy as fuck, her dirty mouth in full command of her tongue as she’d led him on one wild ride that had ended up pulling a few of his sore muscles, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining. Especially not after she’d slipped naked from the bed to wander into the bathroom and draw him a bath.

Steve had laid there in a state of blissful shock and stared at the ceiling, wondering at the strength of her thighs and if her skills at riding were only going to improve as she spent more time on the back of _Hemme_. He might not survive if she did.

A hard punch to his shoulder dragged him forcibly back to the present. “What?”

“Cut it out. You look fucking goofy,” Bucky muttered. “Head in the game, punk.”

He gave a sheepish nod and looked around while sliding a fresh clip in his gun. “You still with us, Faye? You getting this?”

“Yeah, I’m still here. Can you get closer? I want to see those murals.”

“What murals?” (Y/N) asked.

“Here.” Vision collected her hand and drew her toward the wall. “It seems to be a history of some kind.”

“Describe it, please.” It was a flat painting and to her would appear as nothing more than a wall. Things with texture, or frescos which had raised carvings she could usually depict the image, but not with this.

“It reads like a story of a race of creatures,” Vision murmured. “Here, the rising of a strange sun. It is purple, and the... people are blue. They are humanoid in nature, but something seems wrong. The flora appears to be dying in the image.”

He moved to the next panel. “Here there is a mass exodus. Advanced space travel of some kind, leaving behind a world which appears dead. The next shows a pair of the aliens, standing over the small body of a third in a cocoon-shaped pod. Beyond the window of their ship, there are many more floating pods already out in space.”

“They’re children,” said Wanda. “A mass death? A sickness?”

Vision nodded. “That would be my conclusion as well from what limited knowledge we are shown.”

Tony had already moved on. “This one’s a planet again. White sun but blue earth. There are a people here already, funky looking people. I think I found your _Sjeletyv_.”

“What?” (Y/N) spun toward Tony.

“Steve,” Bucky muttered before he could walk away. “Look here. What’s that look like to you?”

Steve stepped closer only to have his eyes widen. “Dragon bones.”

“Yeah. Shit. What the hell is this?” Bucky grumbled.

Steve took a hard look at the rest of the panels. The one Tony was walking (Y/N) through did have creatures on it similar to the _Sjeletyv,_ but they weren’t armoured and insidious looking. They seemed almost peaceful, welcoming to the group of blue aliens. Things changed dramatically though when he skipped to the next panel as the blue aliens attacked the quadrupeds. Some were feeding as his girl had described while others seemed to be taking the bodies of others away.

He moved on to the third set of panels and found an image suspiciously close to what Elektra had described. “Ms. Natchios.”

She appeared at his side with Murdock in tow. “Captain?”

“This what you remember?”

“Nearly identical,” she confirmed.

He stared at the large vat with its strange writing. At the body of the quadrupedal creature inside covered in a black slick, and the bipeds which stood around it. It was grotesque, and he found himself sickened by the very sight of it. The next image showed the creatures rebirth and subsequent maiming of one of its attendants.

They continued on. Another panel showed one of the blue aliens being placed in the vat and returning much changed. They appeared a cross between the two species, and he knew these were the _ljå_ , the ones (Y/N) had fought.

While Elektra murmured to Matt, describing each of the images to him, Steve moved on to the fourth and final set of images where Sam, Clint, and Nat were already standing.

The first panel showed a world with people, human people, and the _Sjeletyv_ (Y/N) knew attacking a new world, but it was the second that caused his breath to catch. Painted in living colour was a woman on a black pegasus, leading a host of others against the invading force. His woman. (Y/N), or in truth, Sváfa. The rest showed the battle for the unnamed world. The losses to both sides. The turning of four women, and the death of four women. The scorching of the world, and a single ship with a single _ljå_ leaving the world behind.

“Christ…” Clint wheezed and turned away.

Natasha only stared, her face an unreadable mask before she, too turned away.

Sam rubbed a hand over his mouth and swallowed hard. When he turned to Steve, there were tears in his eyes. “I’ve seen some shit, man… but that…” He shook his head. One by one the others eventually made their way down the row of images, all but Wanda who cast them a glance and turned a little green, her head already full (Y/N)’s memories.

“Steve?” (Y/N) frowned. “Why is everyone so quiet?”

“Baby…” He led her forward, took her hand, and laid it on the picture with the Valkyrie Queen. “These ones… they’re you.”

She inhaled sharply and jerked her hand away. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s move on. I know what happened.” The clipped, closed tone was so unlike her it made his heart ache.

“The last panel shows a ship and a single _ljå_ leaving that world. There’s nothing after it.”

“Alright. Then we know it’s here somewhere.” She turned for the opening at the back of the room.

“It could be dead, and this is all for nothing, you know,” Elektra said, staring at the last set of panels.

Something about the way she scowled at them set Steve’s nerves on edge.

“It’s not dead,” (Y/N) muttered. “But it will be soon.”

“If I was to hazard a guess,” Faye offered in everyone’s ear. “I’d say the blue guys had some kind of crisis on their homeworld. They left, taking their offspring and, likely their knowledge of this… transformation with them. Whether it originally had a different and less nefarious purpose… I don’t know, but clearly, something happened in transit. They lost what could possibly the entire next generation of offspring. Maybe there was a sickness and the… _kids_ all died, or, possibly, and I hate to say this, but what if they ran out of food? What if they ended up turning themselves to survive the journey, or something went wrong with how they do it, and they ate the children to make it to this other world?”

“Jesus, Faye!” Grant barked in disgust.

“It’s a theory! I didn’t say it was for certain,” she huffed at him. “Then, they get to this new place and they… conquer. There are few of them left by this point, so they make new ones of themselves. They create these… soldiers. But the _ljå_ aren’t strong enough to control them, so they somehow change themselves in there. Morph into something new by using the DNA or whatever of these quadrupeds to change their own. Now they’ve got a vast but hungry army, so the set out to conquer new worlds. Only the world they chose was not a smart one.”

“How’d it get here?” Tony wondered.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Let’s just kill it and go home,” (Y/N) quipped.

“Baby, we will,” Steve said softly.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Faye called.

“Yeah?”

“I agree with your theory. Cap, we should plan for Hard Drop.”

He looked at Clint and Natasha. “That means Wanda and Vision are with you.”

“On it.” Clint nodded.

“What’s a Hard Drop?” Elektra asked. “I don’t remember that in the briefing.”

“Hard Drop, a full database drop. If there is a computer system here, it’s up to Nat to drop the data.” (Y/N) lied so smoothly there wasn’t even a hint of doubt on Elektra’s face when she nodded.

Steve looked at the giant in gold. “Heimdall, if you get a better read on things while we’re in there, speak up.”

“Of course, Captain.” Heimdall nodded.

With a final look at his team, Steve turned and followed his girl into the darkness.

***

Wood and stone walls of rooms with high carved columns, holding up the beams of the open ceilings, gave way to the granite of the mountain. Floors turned from wood planks to smooth stone stairs as you made your way down the twisting tunnel, deep underground.

Every so often you paused on the stairs to strike the flat of your sword against the wall, sending the ringing tone deep into the recesses of the tunnel. You could feel the warmth of the lights off Tony’s suit as he lit the way for the others, but you remained in your dark world. In a way, you were glad you hadn’t been able to see the paintings. Your memories were vivid enough without them, but that the others now knew some of the atrocities you’d face on that world saddened you. You’d tried so hard to shield those you could from it.

This time, when you tapped your sword against the rock face, the echo returned with a hollow cast, and you did it a second time. “Steve.” You motioned for him to repeat your action against the other wall.

His shield rang, sending the pulse rippling down and out.

“Coming to a cave or opening of some kind.”

Matt chuckled softly. “Still surprises me how far you can go. I’m only getting the tunnel.”

“Faye?” Steve murmured. All that came down the com was static. “We’re on our own.”

You continued down the stairs, wide enough to fit three across comfortably with a roof high enough to miss the tips of Heimdall’s helmet. While he could have walked at your side, Steve stayed a stair behind, just to the side of your shield arm as you made your way cautiously towards the opening.

“This place wigs me out,” Sam grumbled.

“Me too,” agreed Clint.

“You’re both wusses,” Nat murmured. The only problem with her statement was the elevated heart rate that showed she, too was not immune to the atmosphere of this place.

Fifteen feet from the opening, you stopped. “Heimdall?”

“My eyes are all but blind.”

“Sam,” Steve murmured.

“On it.” Redwing revved into life and zipped past you into the darkness.

“Does this remind anyone else of Lord of the Rings?” Tony muttered. “I’m having a severe Gandalf, “You shall not pass!” moment.”

Matt, Bucky, and Clint all chuckled.

“Looks clear,” Sam said. “Tunnel splits in four.”

An unhappy hum left your lips. You didn’t like the idea of splitting up. Striding forward, you walked toward the first of the tunnels and gave the wall a testing clang. The sound rippled away into the distance only to dead end.

The second twisted halfway through, dipping down and opening into a more extensive cave. Within there were crates and piles of oddly shaped items. “Feathers.”

“Found me a winner?” Clint murmured.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” you chuckled. “First one dead ends. This one dumps into a cave. I can’t hear anyone down there, but be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” he huffed.

“That’s not what you said in Budapest,” Natasha snickered.

“I would like to hear the story of Budapest one day,” Vision said as he and Wanda joined them.

“We all would,” Bucky muttered.

You touched Wanda's hand as she went by. “Guard your back and remember what I said. If you see it…”

“I will send for you.” She nodded, and the four of them headed down the second tunnel.

“Why don’t Elektra and I check the first,” Matt offered. “We can make sure no one is creeping up our backs.”

You looked at Steve who gave a nod. “Be careful, Matty.”

“He is never careful, but that is why he has me,” Elektra quipped, swinging her katana as she walked into the first tunnel.

“I think that’s the other way around, Elektra,” Matt grumbled as he followed her.

He tilted his head your direction as he passed, and you reached out to touch the arm of his suit, the man back in full Daredevil regalia. “Watch yourself, Matt.”

“Always.”

Once he was gone, you scrubbed your hand over your face. The dried blood was getting itchy. Walking across the space, you immediately pointed to the farthest tunnel. “Tony, that one’s yours.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Cause this one,” you pointed at the nearer of the two, “stinks.” The overpowering stench of _ljå_ wafted from within.

“Then shouldn’t we all be going down that one?” the Iron Man asked.

“You, Sam, and Heimdall clear that one. Make sure we aren’t missing anything,” Steve said from behind you.

Tony huffed but agreed. “Seek and destroy. Then we’re coming back to help.”

You said nothing, hopeful that by the time they cleared the final passage, you would have finished the _ljå_.

“I should be going with you.” Heimdall crossed his arms and glared your way.

“Heimdall. You have your orders.” You looked at him and arched a brow, indicating you meant more than just the ones Steve had given.

“Hm,” he rumbled. “As you wish.”

“Be careful, Sam.”

He popped his fist down on your shoulder, a couple gentle pats. “You too, girl. You too.”

Once they were gone, you looked to Steve, to Bucky, and walked into the darkness. There was nothing to say they didn’t already know.

The tunnel dropped once, a short six or so feet then levelled out. Water dripped in the distance. The scent of _ljå_ was nearly overwhelming. Layer upon layer of scent, some old and fading, others fresh that morning. The thing had obviously lived here for centuries. It was dank but humid, and the air was warmer than before, making you wonder just what was beneath your feet. Setting off an explosion in what could, potentially, be a volcano might not be the smartest idea.

Because that was what Hard Drop really meant. If, as you suspected, and Faye agreed with you which made it highly plausible, there was a stockpile of dragon bones or elixir in this place, you were going to drop the mountain on it. There would be no more conversions, no more soul-sucking _Sjeletyv_ to steal the life from people and turn them into these abominations.

The way and the means died here.

A scuff of a foot on stone had you freezing. The stench was nauseating to the point where you wanted to dry heave. Thank the Norns when you’d done this the first time the battle had been fought outside. Sure they still stunk, but at least once in a while you could get a whole breath.

“Okay,” Bucky whispered. “This place reeks.”

“Baby, is this what you smell all the time?” Steve asked softly.

Nodding, you placed your hand on the wall and fought back the desire to retch. “Steve,” you whispered. He was instantly at your side. “C’mere.” When he bent closer, you turned your face into his throat and inhaled. It instantly cleared your head and settled your stomach. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dollface,” he whispered, unable to hide the smile in his voice.

Reminding yourself that mouth breathing was your friend, you headed further into the dark, feeling the sweep of Bucky’s light, strapped to the top of his gun, cut across your path or merge with Steve’s.

“Light ahead,” Bucky whispered, and there were two simultaneous clicks as both men doused theirs.

Both men could see ridiculously well in the dark, but you didn’t want them fighting in it if it could be helped. There was a short rise ahead, no more than three feet, but still, you paused. “We’re not alone.”

“How many?”

“Five… no six.” You listened a little harder and found the rasping breath of the creature you despised. “And it’s beyond them.”

“Go,” Steve whispered, in your ear. “We can handle them. You do your part, but you’d better come back in the same condition you’re goin’ out in, _min vakre skjoldpike_ , or I’m gonna have something to say about.”

You turned your head. “That goes for you, too, _sjelevenn_. Steven, I know you don’t like killing…”

“I get it. No hesitation, my queen.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a place relatively free of blood, and gave you a push. “Get it done.”

Bucky tugged at your hair, his grin smug when you flipped him the bird and continued forward without them.

Six bodies appeared on the rise ahead of you, but a sick, rattling voice rippled from beyond them.

“Let… her… passssss…”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing, violence, bloodshed
> 
> Song: Valkyrie II: Lacuna by Varien (feat. Cassandra Kay)

## Chapter Eighteen

* * *

Matt made his way into the tunnel with surefooted grace, his senses on high alert to anything and everything that could be coming at him.

“There is nothing down here, Matthew,” Elektra murmured. “We should rejoin the others.”

“Just wait. You know how quiet they are,” he said just as softly. “We don’t want to miss anyone.”

She huffed irately but said no more as he made his way through what appeared to be sleeping quarters. He could not call it living as there was little in the way of true living to be had. There were bunks carved into the stone, but nothing more than blankets filled them. There were no mementos, no nicknacks, nothing to remind one of where they came from — just barren walls and emptiness. Most soldiers had something: cards, games, a picture. Here there was just… nothing.

“It’s like who they were before they came here ceased to exist,” Matt murmured.

“Such was the way of things,” Elektra murmured. “If you were not considered important enough, you were relegated to the ranks, little more than a mindless drone.”

“You didn’t say that before,” he murmured.

She shrugged. “I didn’t remember.” 

“Anything else you forgot to tell me?” he asked, rifling through another bunk.

“Oh, yes.” She smiled as she sauntered her way closer. “There is one thing.”

“What?” he asked.

Matt turned in time to take the butt of her sword to his temple. His ears rang as the world began to fade but not before he caught her final words and had his heart break in half.

“That I’m not on your side, Matthew.”

***

“Damn this place is creepy,” Clint muttered as he followed Vision who’d quickly taken the lead.

Natasha walked at his side, the vibrant blue of her Widow’s Bites throwing light toward the walls. “It could always be worse.”

“Don’t say that you’ll jinx us!” he hushed her swiftly. “I like my soul right where it is, thank you very much.”

Wanda’s red magic flickered in his peripheral vision, lighting the tunnel behind them. “You are too grouchy to be tasty,” she teased. “You would sour their stomachs.”

The infinity stone in Vision’s forehead lit the way, bobbing slightly when he chuckled. “This is true.”

“Watch it, bot boy,” Clint growled.

An answering one came from the dark beyond, and all of them froze.

“Clint?” Natasha whispered.

“Vis! Down!” The android simply phased out of the way, and Clint let fly two arrows in fast succession. Both struck center mass and incinerated the two _Sjeletyv_ , leaving nothing but ash behind.

“Damn,” Nat murmured. “Those are new.”

“Something special Stark cooked up just for this mission,” Clint explained.

Wanda swept past them all and into the open cavern. A flick of red power had the hum of overhead lights coming on and warming up, bathing the room in sparse light and deep shadows. “(Y/N) was right. Look at this,” she said, poking at the nearest pile of bones. Some were sliced into neat sections while others remained as giant lengths of bone.

Vision walked past her and reached through a stack of covered crates to pull out an automatic rifle. “That is not all they were stockpiling.”

Clint was quick up to the top of the stack. “Nat, computer, far corner. Vis, go with her. Wanda, you and I are gonna set these up.” He slung the handly packed bombs off his shoulder.

“I will place those,” Wanda said, stealing the bag with a wisp of magic. “You use those eyes and watch our backs.”

He shook his head and chuckled. “When did you get so bossy?”

“About the same time you got old,” she quipped and floated off to do her thing.

“Burn!” Natasha called from the corner.

“Just shut up and do your job,” he muttered. “Stark?” Clint tested, touching his ear. When nothing but static came back, he tried again. “Cap, you read me? Matt? Sam?”

“Anything?” Wanda asked, wedging one of the bombs into the rock face high up on the wall.

“On our own,” Clint muttered, letting his eyes sweep the area. “How’s it going, Nat?”

“Archaic piece of shit,” she snarled and kicked the console. “Vis?”

“Hm,” he hummed as he floated closer. “It is world war two era. Evidently, they weren’t concerned with keeping up with the times down here.” He set his hand over the access port and closed his eyes. “Give me a moment.”

Clint’s eyes fell on a well of darkness across the room. It was far in the shadows, well back of the room, but something within it moved. “Ain’t got a minute!” he barked, sending an arrow flying. The short second it took to engulf the body was long enough for him to count at least a dozen more. “Incoming!” A second and third arrow were already in flight when the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

Whipping around, Clint swept the legs out from under the _Sjeletyv_ creeping up his back with his bow. A rope of red wrapped around the black-clad fighter’s throat and Wanda wrenched him from Clint’s perch. There was a sickening pop when she sent the man flying, her magic acting the whip which separated his head from his body.

He looked at her, but there was no mercy in the eyes which swirled and glowed with red light — only memories of a time which wasn’t hers and a battle she, too, now faced.

Before Natasha could fire a single shot, Wanda landed in the opening. Her magic flowed like a river, ripped and shredded, tearing into bodies no longer human. When she finished, there was no one left, and not a drop of blood had touched her.

“Wanda?” Clint called cautiously. “You alright there?”

She turned away, returning to the sack she’d left behind with the last of the bombs. “I dislike getting dirty,” was all she said as she went back to placing the devices around the room.

Natasha looked up at him in shock, but Clint only shrugged. He’d seen the panels, the murals of what the brat had gone through when she’d been a Valkyrie before. He’d heard tell of what she’d suffered having that woman staying under the Avenger’s roof. He’d thought long and hard about slipping an arrow between Elektra’s ribs for the trauma she was causing. What Wanda knew was far worse than what he could imagine.

The Scarlet Witch had for a moment lived it with (Y/N). To watch the sweet, kind woman run cold, return to the place she’d once inhabited when she’d been an enemy of the Avengers… he didn’t blame her, and he wasn’t going to say anything about it. If it helped her cope and had the dark circles, not even makeup could hide, disappearing from beneath her eyes, he was all for it.

“Let’s get this done,” he said softly and returned to watching everyone’s backs.

They were going to need to check that tunnel.

***

“Okay,” Sam murmured as he followed Tony into the darkness. “Am I the only one who can smell that?”

“You are not,” Heimdall agreed. “It is putrid.”

“FRIDAY, be a dear and scrub the air before it comes in the suit,” Tony muttered.

“Not cool, man. Not cool,” Sam grumbled. The dark was beginning to get to him, the smell wasn’t helping, and he finally muttered, “Did anyone else have a _what the hell_ moment back there? Like, dude,” he glanced at Heimdall, “I always kind of thought you were just playing with her.”

“It was not playing. Valkyrie have a very different mindset. It is easy for them to step from the sweet, though smart-mouthed female (Y/N) is, into the Valkyrie mind. They are elite for a reason, and Queen Sváfa is queen because there is no other like her.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked, sweeping his light across the floor of the tunnel and up the walls.

“Besides the fact she is the greatest warrior the Valkyrjur have ever seen? The Queen is… gifted in another way.”

“Spill it, big guy. How’s she gifted? Other than having Steve wrapped completely around her finger. Ain’t that right, Cap?” Sam added as an afterthought, but the coms came back dead.

“Scare yourself, flyboy?” Tony chuckled.

“Hey, I ain’t afraid to admit it,” Sam said seriously. “You don’t go out running with the guy!”

“Because I’m not a glutton for punishment,” Tony quipped before holding up his hand. “I’ve got movement.”

They froze, and a small missile lifted from the shoulder of Tony’s suit. It streamed into the darkness. Popping sounds could be heard and then only silence. “Good to go.”

“Do I even wanna know?” Sam grumbled.

“You do not,” Heimdall said, swallowing thickly.

“Jeez, Tony.” Sam could only sigh.

“What? After what came at us outside and those panels upstairs?” He snorted. “I’m not taking any chances.”

“It is better if you do not. The _Sjeletyv_ are not as they were the last time her majesty fought them. They are still deadly thought they have not the reach of the previous creatures. Had she had access to your technology, Stark, perhaps we would have seen many more of her sisters return home. But it was a very long time ago.”

Sam glanced at Heimdall before following Tony into the dark. “Those panels… are they for real?”

“They are a hundred times less horrifying than what Lady (Y/N) truly faced.”

“You saw it?”

“I lived it with her.” Heimdall touched his temple. “I could share her sight as she shared mine to give her reports. Those were dark times.”

“And yet no help from Asgard,” Tony said, criticism clear in his tone.

“She would not allow me to open the Bifröst. The fear a _Sjeletyv_ would escape to our realm was too great.”

“She takes on too much,” Tony muttered, striding past the bodies Sam tried not to look at. “She shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

“She is not alone. The Captain and the Sergeant will see nothing happens to her.”

He said it with confidence, but Sam could hear the small waver in Heimdall’s voice as they walked beyond the tunnel into a large cavern. A panel on the thigh of Tony’s suit opened, and a half dozen flares shot into the air, illuminating the row of vats running down the middle and the old electrical lights hanging on the walls.

“Oh, shit. Are those what I think they are?” Sam whispered, the hair on his arms and neck rising.

Tony stomped forward and kicked one hard, sending it and its contents spilling out across the floor. The body that rolled out covered in black slick was only sort of human. “Heimdall!”

The large guardian sprang forward, his boots sliding through the slick as his sword came down and cleaved head from body. He gave the creature a testing nudge with the tip of his blade. “I think… this may at one time have been human.”

Sam fought back the desire to dry heave. “This is so fucked up.”

Tony’s mask snapped open, and he gagged. “Jesus! That is a stench.” He coughed once before motioning to the vats. “Wilson, Heimdall and I will clean them out. You make sure what doesn’t break gets broken and watch our backs.”

“Roger that,” he murmured, sending Redwing back into the air to hold the perimeter while he took a look around for something heavy he could use to break the vats into itty bitty pieces.

***

You listened to the six at the top of the rise slide back out of the way and turned your face to look back at the two men behind you. “Watch your backs, boys.”

“You too, dollface,” Bucky murmured. He palmed the grenade at his waist, a small one unlikely to do damage to the tunnel, and chucked it into the darkness behind him.

There was a howl of agony that ended in a gurgle when it went off.

A smirk twitched your lips. You should have known he would know. You couldn’t see Bucky’s eyes, but the change was present. The Winter Soldier walked with your _sjelevenn_. It made you momentarily giddy.

It wasn’t that Bucky was any less of a fighter, or even more of one when he slipped into that mindset, but Winter… he could be ruthless and without mercy. There was no hesitation when it came to the Soldier. There was only the mission and the targets in need of elimination.

You gave him a nod and headed for the wall where you ran up the corner and landed lightly on the ledge. Sword and shield at the ready, you walked cautiously into the cavern, between the two sets of three _Sjeletyv_ who flanked you.

“Dead bitch walking,” hissed the one to your right.

“You first, asshole,” you muttered, swinging your sword up and slashing it down, sending his head flying through the air.

The other five snarled, but the voice from the back of the cave only chuckled. “Ssssso… temperamental.”

You slipped away from the five at your back, the five who had all your nerves firing because they were at your back, and out onto the sandy floor. Rocks, boulders, and stalagmites encroached upon the center of the cave but had evidently been cleared back at some point to make for a smoother main floor. It rose steadily upward toward the platform at the back where a large stalagmite had been smoothed and shaped into a pseudo throne. Water dripped into pools around the space, adding a layer of wet, moist minerals to the scent of the _ljå_ who lounged upon the throne.

“ _Ljå_ ,” you hissed. “Come down from your false throne and meet your death.”

A rumble like gravel in a bucket echoed around the cavern. “Death at the handssss of a hoooman issss not part of my plan.”

“Who said I was human?” you snarled as you dragged the tip of your sword over a rock. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard, but it sent the vibration ringing through the space and helped you see the stalactites which hung like deadly spires from the ceiling.

“She’s right.” The voice from behind the throne was a sickeningly familiar one.

“I knew you’d show your hand eventually, Elektra.”

She laughed as she dropped the body she was carrying on the ground. Matt groaned but didn’t move. “You never did trust me. I was rather impressed,” she quipped as she sauntered forward to lean against the _ljå’s_ throne.

It held out its hand, three fingers and an opposable thumb, all with long, sharp claws which Elektra took freely. “Yoooo did well… daughter.”

You snorted in disgust. “You really have gone dark side. What’s the game plan here, Elektra? What was the point in all this?”

“It was as it always has been,” she said without remorse. “The take over of this world. It started with the Hand, with finding the dragons, but will end with you and your little band of Avengers becoming _Sjeletyv_. There will be no one capable of stopping us once you’re all turned!”

“To what end? Why go through all this… _pretense_? You could have just lured them here with a distress call. Why go to all this trouble?”

“Becaussse of you,” hissed the _ljå_. “The reborn Valkyrie.”

“We had planned on drawing them out, your Avengers, once the business with Midland Circle was through, but things didn’t go as we’d hoped. Matthew couldn’t let it go and drew in those others to assist him. He and Danny… oh, what wonderful additions they would have made to our ranks but they forced my hand. They ruined my plans and set me scrambling for new ones. It was simply luck which had you falling into our laps!” Elektra laughed. “How excited my Queen was when your Captain called Matthew for help. A Valkyrie, that most hated of enemies had fallen into her lap!”

“It hassss been too long ssssince I feasssted on your kind.”

“And it will be even longer!” you snapped. “You cannot take a Valkyrie soul!”

“Yoooor flessssh issss jusssst asss ssssweet,” it hissed.

“You see, (Y/N), we _are_ going to kill you. Then we are going to kill the others, turn them, and bring them around to our purpose,” Elektra snickered. “From there, we will spread out across this world and remake it in the image of the _Sjeletyv_!”

There was the tiniest stir from the body behind her. A minute change in his breathing. A quickening of his heart. “Why did you do it? Save Matt. Why let him think you were his Elektra when you’re not? Why put him through all that?”

She smirked as she moved to the edge of the platform. “Because it was easy and it was entertaining. The _Sjeletyv_ learned something new when they turned your sisters. In previous races, the reanimated came back as mindless and insatiable, but in the Valkyrie and the humans, we _ljå_ retain a semblance of our old selves. We remember the past. Even the soldiers remain semi-human for the most part. How easy that makes it for us to slip into your society. How clever we will be. We will rule this world long before we ever take it over, and you and your team are going to help us do so!”

“We musssst thank the Houndssss for thissss gift.”

“Especially as there is something you do not yet know, my Queen,” Elektra said, looking back at the _ljå_.

“Oh?”

“She’s not just any Valkyrie… she’s their Queen and the very same one you fought all those centuries ago.”

The thing was up out of its throne and crouched at the edge of the platform in an instant. “How?”

“The Hounds fucked it up,” you muttered as you made ready. “They thought they had just a Valkyrie. Too bad for them. I knew you were involved with the Hounds, Elektra.”

“They have been most helpful through the years. More so for Alexandra, but that bitch was getting old. Her vision was deviating from that of my Queen. The Hounds thought to use you for their own purposes, but when Matt told me how your transformation had come about,” she flicked a dismissive hand, “I reached out to a few of my old contacts. How surprised they were to hear I wasn’t buried under tons of rubble.”

“The Houndsss have been helpful. They will make pleasssssing ssssoldierssss.”

Your attention shifted to the creature from your nightmares, having heard more than enough. “You are an abomination, a curse on this realm. You should have died on that planet with the rest of your kind. I would never allow you to do here what you did there!” Stabbing your sword into the sand, you grabbed the dagger from the small of your back and threw it at Elektra.

She bent out of the way only to rise laughing. “Did you think that would work? All you’ve done is relieve yourself of a weapon.”

“Are you sure?” you asked as Matt drove the dagger deep between her ribs. “I don’t believe I ever heard it land.”

“Wh-at… Matt… hew…?” she whispered as she crumpled into his arms.

“You’re not my Elektra,” he said softly as he fell with her to the floor. “You were never my Elektra,” he whispered as a tear tracked from beneath the edge of his mask.

The _ljå_ turned on him and screeched the god-awful noise you’d hoped never to hear again. It made your ears ring and whited out your perception of the room, but it had been going for Matt, and you didn’t hesitate as you flung your shield with all your might.

***

The roar of an enraged creature had Tony, Sam, and Heimdall spinning toward the tunnel they’d come down.

“It appears little miss feisty has found what she was looking for!” Tony didn’t bother to dump the final vat; he simply blew it up.

He hadn’t wanted to announce what they were up to if he could get away with it. Better to manually dump and destroy than just blow the works and give away their location. Add in the fact they were standing on an active but stable magma shaft he had no desire to set off, and he’d kept the big guns locked down.

“Stark, that one too.” Sam pointed at the large wooden structure at the back of the cavern as he threw away the piece of pipe he’d been using to break the second to last vat to bits. “It’s full of the elixir.”

A second missile blew the bottom out of the barrel which reminded Tony of some sort of perverted Swiss hot tub. “Let’s go see what kind of shit storm her highness has stirred up,” he muttered as he turned to go only to freeze when the proximity warning went off on Sam’s Redwing. He spun back toward the tunnel the oil slick was slowly oozing its way down, one they’d yet to explore.  “Run,” he gave Sam a shove. “Run!”

Sam sprinted for the exit as Heimdall turned to stand with him.

“You too,” the Iron Man said to the guardian.

“You will be outnumbered. That much even I can see.”

“Not if I bring the ceiling down. Get out of here!” Tony wasn’t about to argue. FRIDAY was already running the calculations to bring the ceiling full of rock spires down on their heads with the greatest amount of force but the least amount of damage to the cave system.

Heimdall chuckled as he turned and took long strides toward the exit. “A much better idea.”

Tony rolled his eyes and backed toward the exit, sending the missiles into the bases of a dozen large stalactites. They cracked and crumbled as dust and rocks began to rain from the roof. By the time the first one slammed into the ground, the _Sjeletyv_ were too far into the room to go back.

The screaming rose in counterpoint to the sound of crushing stone.

Tony backed into the tunnel, lifted his hand, and sheared through the rock with his laser, sealing the exit behind him with a solid chunk of granite. Nothing was coming out of that room to ride up their backs.

“Boss,” FRIDAY chirped in his ear.

“Yeah?”

“I estimate a twenty percent increase in the chance of an eruption.”

“Shit,” Tony hissed. His calculated risk had only sort of paid off. “And if we set off Heavy Drop?”

“Having not seen the cavern I can only hazard a guess.”

“Then guess!” he barked.

“The likelihood of a full eruption or even a mass magma seepage will increase to ninety percent.”

“Great, just great. We’re sitting on a mountain full of magma with enough explosives to level four city blocks. Fan-freaking-tastic,” he grumbled as he flew up the tunnel after Sam and Heimdall.

***  
Steve didn’t hesitate. When the _ljå_ let loose its roar, he was already in motion. It would deafen his girl and in so doing blind her as well. He wasn’t about to let her fight that thing when she couldn’t see it.

Five shots rang out, and five bodies fell as both he and Bucky cleared the rise only to stumble to a stop.

“Ho… holy shit,” Bucky murmured.

“Jesus…” Steve whispered.

They stared in horrified disbelief at the _ljå_ as (Y/N)’s shield careened off the side of its face, knocking it sideways and away from Murdock who cradled the lifeless body of Elektra.

“You have bigger worries than one dead _ljå_!” (Y/N) bellowed as she pulled a second dagger from her back.

“Steve,” Bucky murmured. “What do we do?” A rumble rippled through his feet, shaking the floor and causing them both to stumble. “Stark?” Bucky touched his ear and swore when all he got was static.

Unable to answer, Steve could only stare. The pictures on the mural hadn’t done it justice. The description she’d given hadn’t done it justice. The thing was _huge_! And she looked so tiny standing there in the middle of the cavern with the soft golden light streaming down from behind the creature’s throne.

It was closing in on eight feet tall, had three fingers, not four and claws instead of nails, and its arms were long enough to nearly drag its knuckles on the ground. It bent, crouched like a gorilla, and balanced on those serrated claws to shake its head. Blue-tinged skin covered with odd shaped scales and spikes ran from between its eyes, up over its forehead, and back over its scalp to disappear into the dark, slick looking armour.

When its head lifted, and eyes opened fully, Steve frowned. They were pale, milky looking. Almost as if it had lived too long in the dark. Maybe they could use that to their advantage. “Buck, the eyes.”

“I see it. I see somethin’ else too.” He nodded toward the area behind the throne were out of the dark stepped four figures.

“Cap,” Clint’s voice came through the com. “What do we do?”

Before he could answer, (Y/N) started to speak.

“Hail, All-Father, wise warrior, one-eyed wanderer. Come, sit by my fire. Tell me your wisdom stories, the scenes your missing eye sees. You who chooses the slain, look on my deeds and when my time comes to run the sky with you, let my end be worthy of song. In the meantime, let me feel excitement,” her sword and dagger scraped together, and sparks flew, “and poetry and fury and joy! Let me understand sacrifice!” Her voice rose in volume. “Think long! Remember well! Journey far!”

“What’s she doing?” Tony asked as he, Sam, and Heimdall landed behind them, the sound of Tony’s approaching suit unmistakable.

“She prays to Odin,” Heimdall murmured. “The prayer of those who may fall.”

“Over my dead body,” Steve snarled.

“Be my witness!” she roared, scraping the blades together. “Freyja! Beloved goddess. Sharpen my sword that it may cut deep, bleed true, and finish my enemy once and for all!”

There was a moment, a single second of complete stillness, before the woman he loved flew into action, and the _ljå_ rose to meet her.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Foul language, blood, and battle
> 
> Song: Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin

## Chapter Nineteen

* * *

You leapt, pushing hard to send yourself sailing through the air. You caught its palm and claws on your dagger, opposite wrist with your sword, and swept them apart, creating space to send your knee directly into its teeth. The impact knocked it stumbling, the armour provided by Tony holding up well. The crack which accompanied your landing was its teeth breaking, not you knee guard.

A shriek pierced the air, and you stabbed your dagger down, driving for the space between armour and throat. Its claws scrabbled at your spine, scraping down armour before catching a small ridge and ripping you backward.

Your flight was short when you hit a stalagmite back first. With a grunt, you dropped to the ground where you smiled at the evil bitch. “That all you got?”

It dropped to all fours and scrambled toward you.

The secondary clash was just as mighty when you ducked its sweeping arm to slash your sword along its torso. Their armour was weak along the rib cage, under their arm, and at the back of each knee. Or, it used to be. A jab with your dagger to its underarm proved that spot still was when the _ljå_ roared in agony.

You didn’t wait for her to recover but kicked off a boulder and flipped to her back, plunging your sword into the armour plating and tearing a hole. “You squeal like a pig,” you muttered as it grunted and strained, trying to dislodge you with sweeps of arm and grasping claws.

“I will kill you!” it roared and bucked.

Your feet slipped on the slick coating applied to its armour. “You couldn’t when you had an army,” you muttered, punching your fist into the shoulder of bared flesh. “What makes you think you can do so now?”

It screamed, and you flinched, the sound again whiting out your vision. When it returned, the world was tilting as the _ljå_ made to fall over backward and crush you. You jumped, flipping up and over its head, shaving the scales from its skull.

Claws sliced through the air, scraping over your abdomen. They left gouges behind, scars in the intricately worked armour. It sent you stumbling backward, jerking away before the serrated edges could catch and tear the armour open.

It lunged to follow, refusing to allow you any leeway, but opened up a space between its arms. You flipped your grip on your sword, sliced it over its chest and slamming the pommel into its chin. The hit knocked it back, and you punched your dagger into its thigh.

It screamed in rage and pain, setting your ears ringing, and you missed the incoming fist until it connected with your face. A crack preceded the wash of white-hot agony that seared through your cheek, but you bit your tongue until the coppery flavour of blood filled your mouth to keep from screaming. You wouldn’t give it the satisfaction.

“(Y/N)!” Steve bellowed. The pounding of his heart intensified.

“Get everyone out of here!” you snarled and spat blood on the ground.

***

Matt sat with Elektra, uncaring of what was happening around him. For the second time he’d held her as she died, but this time the woman he’d loved like no other had been an imposter. She hadn’t been his Elektra, not even for a moment. Like (Y/N) had warned him, she’d been the enemy in the end.

He hadn’t wanted to believe it. Hadn’t wanted to see the discrepancies or the coldness — the lack of empathy she’d suddenly displayed. He had walked blindly - ironically enough - at her side, letting her lead him down a path he’d never wanted to follow.

Hearing her confession from her own mouth had filled him with resolve. This was not his Elektra. This was a _Sjeletyv_. A damned being. A soulless monster bent on taking over the world.

His Elektra may not have been perfect, but she was better than this.

He’d known (Y/N) would know what it meant when he’d risen silently and held up his hand. He’d known what would come of his request, yet still, plunging that dagger through her ribs had been like plunging it into his own heart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry I didn’t do better. Try harder. I’m sorry I failed you the first time. Be at peace,” he said as tears streamed from beneath his mask, hoping her initial death had allowed her soul to find its afterlife. He pressed a final kiss to her brow.

When she stirred in his arms, reanimating as they were want to do, he pressed a final kiss to her brow and reached for the katana at his side. “You’re not my Elektra,” he whispered as he set the blade to her throat.

“Matthew…” she moaned, and he hesitated.

“I’m sorry,” he cried softly, “for everything,” and sliced the blade down. The hot spray of blood coated him as her head fell away.

***

Steve’s heart was in his throat. “Not a chance in hell, baby!” He wasn’t leaving without her. “Clint, grab Murdock and get your asses out of there!”

“Roger that. Walls are starting to close in,” Clint grumbled.

“Stark, get ready to drop the hammer,” Steve barked, slamming his shield on his arm.

“Cap, we’re sitting on an active magma line. I blow Heavy Drop, and it’s going to get mighty hot in here.”

Steve ground his teeth together. “Heimdall, you and Sam head back to the fork. Make sure the path stays clear.”

“Captain…”

“Don’t argue! Just go!” he snapped, glaring at the large guardian until he nodded and followed the already retreating Sam back the way they’d come. “Bucky,” he looked at his friend and saw only the cold harshness of winter. “Light it up.”

The harsh beam of his flashlight cut through the golden glow to alight on the _ljå’s_ eye. It grunted and flinched away.

“Tony.”

“I see how it is, Cap.” The Iron Man blasted off toward the ceiling where the lights from his suit would do the most good. “Why don’t you just let me put a bullet in its skull?”

“She needs to do this,” Steve murmured. “She needs to finish it, but that doesn’t mean we can’t help.”

The bright lights blazed on, and the _ljå_ shrieked and covered its face, stumbling away from (Y/N).

“Clint! Move your ass!” Steve barked as he did the dumbest thing he could think of. He ran out onto the field.

“Jesus Christ, Steven!” Bucky shouted.

***

Natasha was the one who darted past the makeshift throne to grab Matt by the arm. “We’ve got to go! Now!”

“No,” he whispered. “I can’t. I can’t do it again. Move on after…”

She softened, her heart breaking a little for the man in the devil’s mask. “Murdock,” Nat said shoving the body from his lap and gently touching his cheek. “You’ve already mourned for her. You’ve already grieved. This? This was only an imposter. She wasn’t yours. Don’t allow your memories to be tainted by this evil. And don’t let them take everything you’ve worked for away because of it. We need to go, and I’m not leaving you behind.”

“Natasha…” he sighed.

“If you don’t get your red leather behind off the floor, Murdock, I will kick it clean across this cave! Do you get me?”

A small smile quirked his lips. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, pushing to his feet.

“Besides, you don’t want to miss watching our girl kick that things ass.” Natasha smiled, and it felt feral even to her.

“If you two are done,” Clint grumbled, “We need an exit.” He flinched when the _ljå_ screeched.

“Pathway.” Matt pointed to the side. “Through the stalagmites and around a pool of water.”

“Good, move out.” Clint jogged toward the opening.

Wanda touched Matt’s shoulder as she went by, so did Vision, but as Nat made to follow, Matt hesitated. “Don’t make me come back for you, Murdock.”

He stood there between the head and the body, Elektra’s blood making his suit shine in the low light and clenched his fists. “I hate… what they did to her. Leaving her here feels… wrong.”

Nat returned to his side and took his fist in her hand. “You’re not leaving her here. She was never here. Let’s go home, Matty.” She tugged at his arm and got his feet moving.

“I think that’s the first time you haven’t called me Murdock,” he murmured.

“Well, get used to it, Matty. You’re one of us now,” Natasha said as his hand uncurled from its fist and grasped hers.

***

“What the fuck are you doing, Steven!” you barked as he raced closer.

The hot wash of Tony’s lights over your body had coincided with the _ljå_ scrambling away. It was too coincidental for it not to mean something, and you’d put two and two together. The years of living beneath the surface had likely done something to the _ljå_ eyes. The irony of you both ending up with vision issues wasn’t lost on you, but at least now you had an advantage.

“Helping,” Steve barked as he appeared at your side. “What do you always say? Your my shield and I’m your sword, so let’s get it done!”

“Steven,” you snarled.

“Don’t waste time! You need a shield, and I’m it! Kill that thing!” he ordered.

Though you wanted to argue, wanted to kick his ass across the cave for putting himself in this danger, you weren’t in the position to do so when a wild swing of claws resounded off his shield. “Goddammit, Steve!”

“Fight about it later! Do your damn job!”

“I swear to the flames of Valhalla, Steven, you take one hit on anything but that shield…”

His arm wrapped around your waist. “Just like dancing, baby. That thing’s got milky white eyes. Use the advantage of Tony’s lights. You’ve got this.”

“God! Fuck!” You hated it when he sounded so self-assured. “Your positivity is annoying,” you muttered as you moved and he flowed with you.

Your hand closed over his on his shield arm; your dagger lost from before. It might have even still been in the _ljå’s_ thigh, but your face was becoming a distraction you couldn’t afford. Holding onto Steve gave you a connection to his body, and soon the two of you were moving as if you were one. One soul, one body, one heart beating in perfect synchronization.

His strides shortened to match yours, the sweep of his arm as well, but now you had the combined strength of both of you behind that shield and when you slammed if full force into the handful of claws reaching for you… they snapped.

Again the _ljå_ screamed in agony and scrambled backward, but this time when your hearing whited out your vision, you merely let Steve lead your strange dance onward as if you could hear the music at the moment, the harmony of two souls perfectly aligned.

“Sword,” he murmured.

You brought it up and slashed it outward, cleaving the hand with the claws still intact from its arm.

The _ljå_ lashed out in pain, grabbing the edge of Steve’s shield with its hand of shattered claws. It wrenched it and him away from you, sending both sailing through the air, nearly taking you along when Steve almost didn’t let go in time. Its bloody stump connected with your broken cheekbone, and this time you couldn’t contain the scream of pain when it ripped up your throat.

“You die here!” it roared, raking the jagged edges of what little claws it had left down your chest, shredding open the armour Tony had worked so hard on.

“You first, bitch!” Your sword slashed through the air a second time, catching its thigh, tearing open the armour plating and sinking deep into the bones.

It twisted and roared, turning you momentarily blind again, and you missed the punch that sent you sailing up and back into Tony. You crashed into him, knocking both of you spinning into the stalactites in the ceiling before he got you stabilized. One cracked when you connected, and both of you huffed out a grunt when Tony’s suit took the brunt of it.

“You okay, highness?” he asked as the rock creaked and groaned and he held you up a rather long way from the floor.

“Face hurts,” you grumbled.

“I could just-”

He was cut off by another roar as the _ljå_ turned its attention from you, now out of reach, to the form of your fallen _sjelevenn_ , slow to get back to his feet.

Steve turned to face it, and that’s when you smelt it. Even over the minerals of the cave, the stench of the _ljå_ , the smell of sweat and gunpowder and dust, you could smell the coppery scent of Steve’s blood.

“No,” you whispered in horror. “ _No_!” you shrieked in denial as it lumbered toward him.

***

His ears were ringing, head spinning from landing wrong and taking a rock to the jaw. Steve shook his head, trying to clear the noise, but it only seemed to grow louder. It wasn’t until he was halfway back to his knees that he realized why.

The lumbering form of the _ljå_ was headed right for him, and the stinging of his lip told exactly why. He’d sliced himself and given the  _ljå_ an opening to steal his soul.

(Y/N) was going to kick his ass. Buried to the hilt in the creatures right thigh was his girl’s sword, but where was she?

Fear and rage tore through his chest from the secondary heart, the one that was (Y/N)’s which pounded away, echoing the sound of Bucky’s rifle going off.

It felt as if time slowed around him. Arrows slipped by, plowing into the body of the _ljå_ and exploding, searing over the dark, oily armour. Bullets ricocheted off plates. One skated the creature’s cheek as it moved with seeming unreal speed.

But it was the shriek of rage and rejection that had his gaze shifting to the roof where (Y/N) elbowed Tony in the chest, forcing him to release her. While everything else moved like molasses, she was lightning. She landed in a spray of dirt, seeming suddenly as heavy as the Hulk when she knelt in the hole she’d created.

But it was when she stood, when she stepped forward out of the earth, he had his breath catch at her magnificence. Blood soaked, bruised, and battered; she stepped forth the most regal Queen he’d ever seen. The ethereal eyes he adored appeared to glow, fill with holy light, a brilliance which bespoke the fullness of her rage.

A wind blew through the cavern, sudden and vicious, dragging the _ljå’s_ attention off him for a split second. Long enough for it to see its death coming for it when Sváfa, for surely this was the Valkyrie Queen at her mightiest, screamed a battle cry and spat a round of words he couldn’t understand, ending on a roar which rattled the spires in the ceiling.

Vision appeared at his back and jerked Steve away, out of the line of the rampaging _ljå_ when reality returned and time seemed to revert to normal, but not before he witnessed the most amazing thing his girl had done yet. She stepped forward, and the ground shook, pushed off and it tremored. Leapt into the air and the concussive force sent a wave of air slamming into the roof, cracking the stalactites in the beginning of the end as the ceiling started to give way.

But she would not be stopped. The names of her sisters, the ones lost, whose lives had been taken so despicably rolled from her lips like a mantra when she slammed her body into that of the _ljå_.

It stumbled and nearly fell, bellowing in its own language, guttural and harsh, but the Queen never faltered. She wrenched her sword from the _ljå_ with an enormous heave, slashing it straight up its torso in the process. Armour broke and scattered, falling to pieces like the rock raining from the ceiling.

“Captain! We must go!” Vision barked.

“No! Not without her!” Steve snarled, breaking free only to have Bucky grab one arm and Stark the other.

“We’re going to be pancakes if we don’t leave!” Stark bellowed.

“Then go! Get out of here, but I’m not leaving without her!” Steve shook them off again. “C’mon, baby,” he whispered. “You’ve got this.”

He watched, awestruck, as she leapt to the _ljå’s_ thigh, pushed off and punched it right in the face. It stumbled backward again as (Y/N) caught the spike on the shoulder of its armour and returned to its back. Her sword flashed up, stabbed down, embedding itself in the opening she’d previously torn in its armour, and she gripped it tightly while sliding her mother’s taloned gauntlet around the creature’s throat.

_“Du burde aldri ha prøvd å røre det som er mitt!_ ” she fairly howled as she ripped the _ljå’s_ throat out.

“You should never have tried to touch what’s mine,” Vision translated before he and Wanda headed for the exit.

The _ljå_ gurgled, and for the first time, Steve saw the fear come to its eyes as it realized it had lost. Finally, truly, permanently lost.

It brought its broken hand to its chest, swaying as what passed for its blood poured from the gaping wound.

(Y/N) pulled her sword from its shoulder and with a final swift stroke, severed the _ljå’s_ head from its body. It fell out from under her, but she landed lightly beside it. A warrior. A goddess.

A Valkyrie.

The light left her eyes, and she swayed, stumbling forward as a giant spear of rock crashed to the ground beside her. “Ste…ve?” she said once before tumbling forward and sprawling out on the ground.

“(Y/N)!” Steve hollered as he dashed out into the falling rock, catching and deflecting chunks on his shield until he could drop at her side. “Baby! Baby, wake up!” he urged, as he turned her over. When she moaned but otherwise stayed unresponsive, Steve was quick to scoop her up.

Rock exploded in a cloud of pebbles over his head, and he looked up in time to see Tony blast another spire.

“Move your ass, Cap! We pissed off the magma flow. This place is about to go to hell. Literally!”

Steve scrambled to his feet and took off at a run, dodging small boulders, and trying to keep his girl from getting hit. Her sword had magnetized to the outside of his shield when he’d picked her up, and he was thankful for that small miracle.

The only one waiting for them was Bucky, and he was standing just inside the tunnel. “Vis says it’s getting fuckin’ warm up there. We gotta go.”

“Give her to me.” Tony held out his arms.

Steve clutched her all the tighter. “I’ve got her.”

“Stop being a stubborn, territorial ass! You need to run, and I know she’s not light in that armour. Now, hand her over and get your asses moving!” Stark barked.

He wanted to argue, but the trickle of sweat running down his temple decided it for him. He placed (Y/N) in Tony’s arms, and as one, he and Bucky turned and ran into the darkness.

The mountain beneath their feet rumbled and shook, sending them careening into the wall, but they somehow stayed upright.

“Shit!” Tony swore behind them. “Pick up the pace, fellas, or we’re all gonna be crispy fried. The floor in the other cavern is cracking, and if the heat catches one of those bombs, we’re all done for.”

“The others?” Steve asked as they made it back to the main tunnel and started up the stairs.

“Can’t get a fix. I’m gonna assume their either out, or close to it.”

Steve grunted and dug for more speed when the waft of superheated air seemed to sear against his back.

They were nearly to the top, the light brightening as they got closer to the monastery when the first bomb went off.

Tony paused only long enough to launch a missile at the tunnel roof before returning to flying along at their heels. “Won’t hold it long, but might slow it down some.”

Another larger explosion went off beneath their feet as they exited into the cooler air of the main structure. “Get those birds up!” Steve barked into his com as the floor buckled.

It gave way beneath his feet, but Bucky’s hand shot out and dragged him forward. “Your girl would never forgive you if you died after she saved your ass!”

“Bite me, Barnes!” Steve snapped, but he couldn’t help but smirk a little as they leapt the bodies still lying in the snow while Tony blew the gate for them. “She was so awesome.”

“That she was,” Bucky agreed.

They hit the ramp of the jet hovering a few feet off the ground at the same time, Tony landing shortly behind them.

“Get us off this rock!” Stark barked as he headed straight for the med-bed with (Y/N).

The other jet carrying Faye, Grant, Vision, Wanda, Heimdall, and Sam was already gone, and Natasha punched it, causing Steve to grab for the wall as the ramp closed behind him and placed his shield in the netting provided. The heavy rumbling grew louder as she slowed and turned the jet so they could see the mountain.

A plume of smoke billowed from the center of the monastery; then it burst fully into flames when the yellow-orange glow of the magma flowed freely from the central building, out over the corpses of the fallen _Sjeletyv_. Soon it was flowing like a river off the ledge the quinjets had been sitting on, appearing as a river of molten rock streaming into the gorge below.

“Any towns or villages going to be in danger from this?” Steve asked quietly, turning away to see Clint standing at (Y/N)’s side. He could tell from her vitals she was just exhausted, even though her cheek was busted along with a few ribs. She’d taken a couple superficial nicks and cuts to her abdomen and thigh that were already healing.

“No. There’s no one even close to here,” Tony assured him as he stepped out of his parting suit.

“Good.” Steve moved over to stand with Clint and take (Y/N)’s hand. The one with her metal gauntlet was dripping the viscous purple liquid of the _ljå’s_ blood. He reached across her and worked it free before taking it to the sink in the back and rinsing it clean, ignoring the way his hands shook as he tried to get every single drop off the shining silver claws.

“Hey, punk,” Bucky murmured as he came over to lean against the wall. “You okay?”

“I…” He wasn’t. He’d never been so terrified and so impressed at the same time.

“Hey. Hey, pal?” Bucky grabbed his elbow when the shaking intensified. “Steve, you need to sit down. Sit down, Cap.”

He did so in a rush. Straight down as shakes became dizziness and the feeling of being extremely light headed intensified.

“Alright, okay. You’re alright,” Bucky muttered as he shoved Steve’s head between his knees. “Take a breath, Cap, before you pass out.”

“I can’t… seem…” he wheezed. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d had an asthma attack, but this felt so similar he knew he had to try and slow it down, ease the panic as best he could.

Matt who’d been quietly sitting off to the side came over and crouched quickly. “I can help,” he said softly. “Stick taught me a few things when I was a kid and had… issues still.”

Steve nodded, feeling sick and wanting it to end.

“Do it,” Bucky commanded, already squeezing the back of Steve’s neck with one hand and removing his helmet with the other.

Matt went to work applying pressure to the insides of his wrists, forehead, and ears, and before Steve knew it, the pounding of his heart and the sick feeling he was having disappeared.

“Better?” Matt asked.

Resting his head on his knee, Steve nodded. “Thanks. I don’t… I’ve never…”

“S’okay, pal. Better to have a meltdown after the battle than during it,” Bucky muttered, patting his shoulder.

Bucky was no stranger to panic attacks, and Steve sighed. “Thanks, Buck.” He turned his head enough to see Murdock sitting beside him sans mask. “I’m sorry about…”

He gave a pained smile. “She wasn’t my Elektra, but it still hurts.”

“You didn’t have to… one of us could have…” Steve wasn’t sure how to voice that one of them would have been fine with taking her out.

“When I accused (Y/N) of being hypocritical, saying if it were you who’d changed she would have done everything in her power to save you, she told me the story of her sisters. When she finished, she said if it were you who had been made _ljå_ she would take your head, because you wouldn’t be her Steve anymore. Hearing,” he swallowed hard, “hearing that thing confirm what (Y/N) had been saying all along,” he shook his head, “it had to be me who fixed what I’d done. It had to be me,” he finished softly and pushed up to wander back to the corner where he sat with his head bowed.

Steve took a deep breath, mostly just to be certain he still could, then rolled to his hands and knees and pushed back to his feet. He fished his girl’s claws from the sink and dried them off, before returning to midplane where she remained unconscious.

Nat and Clint had swapped positions, and Natasha had gotten (Y/N)’s armour disengaged so she could check the wounds his girl was now sporting. “You okay, Cap?”

He tried not to flush with embarrassment. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“We all need to break once in a while, Steve. It’s called being human. She scared the right fuck out of all of us today. Both because that was amazing and who the hell moves like that?” Natasha shook her head and breathed her own shaky breath. “Add in the big blue bitch and its enough to give all of us nightmares.”

Steve tucked her gauntlet in his belt and poured a bottle of water over the towel he held. Gently, he began to clean the blood from her hand. “And that was only one battle. One _ljå_. What she faced before…” He shook his head and leaned down to press a tender kiss to her forehead.

“She’s gonna kick your ass when she wakes up,” Tony chuckled.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Clint asked.

“That we’re better together,” Steve said softly as he continued to clean the blood from her skin. “We’re always better together.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, fights, a little smexy.
> 
> Song: My Hero by The Foo Fighters

## Chapter Twenty

* * *

You woke with a start to the cadence of slow beeps monitoring your heart, the scent of antiseptic, and the mutter of Bruce as he puttered around. His heart was the only one you could find besides your own, and you turned your head his direction, sending a wave of pain through your face.

“Shit!” You grabbed your cheek only to have your ribs grind together. “Double shit!” you wheezed and caused Bruce to chuckle.

“Welcome back, your majesty.”

“Bite me, Bruce,” you grumbled, sitting up slowly.

His hands were quick to find your elbows and help you to the edge of the bed. “You’re healing at an advanced rate. According to all reports, your broken ribs are down to mere fractures, and your orbital bone and cheek are more like deep bone bruises than the cracks of shattered glass they were when you got on the jet.”

“How long have I been out? What happened? _Steven_!?” you gasped, trying to lurch from the bed and nearly landing on the floor.

“Hey! Hey! Easy! Everyone’s fine. Everyone’s safe. You don’t remember what happened?”

You shook your head slowly. “I remember Steven doing something foolish, me getting smacked into Tony, and smelling Steve’s blood. Then the _ljå_ was dead, and the roof was coming down on us.”

“So… the part where you screamed filthy things and called upon your fallen sisters, Thor, Odin, and Loki to lend you their strength while your eyes glowed and you kicked that thing’s ass by ripping out its throat before riding its falling corpse to the ground… is a blank?”

“What?” You blinked at him. “How do you know what happened?”

“Tony records everything. Once Wanda let me know about… Elektra, the Hulk insisted we come home, much to Laura’s relief I’m sure. And, just so you know, the big guy? He’s none too happy about sitting this one out.”

You gave his cheek a gentle pat. “I’ll happily play around of dodge-and-roll with him once everything stops throbbing.”

There was a moment of silence before Bruce nodded. “He says he doesn’t know what that is, but he’ll take it.”

“It’s a game I played with my sisters. He’ll like it. Promise.”

He hummed softly before sitting beside you. “So? You gonna own up to what glowing eyes and memory loss mean? You didn’t seem surprised by it.”

“I’m surprised Heimdall didn’t spill the beans. Nosy guardian revealed all my other secrets,” you grumbled.

“He would only grin and mutter about you being a special sort of Valkyrie.”

With a sigh, you heaved yourself off the bed. “How long has it been?”

“The flight from China, plus a good six hours since you got home. Steve was here for most of it, but I kicked him out about twenty minutes ago. He stunk.” Bruce wrinkled up his nose.

“Well, he didn’t get very far. I can hear them all down the hall in a conference room, along with…” you cocked your head to the side, “ _Ross_! What the fuck is he doing back here?”

“He showed up with an order for Daredevil. Of course, Murdock was with you, so we simply denied everything. I had Susan jump into his room, clear it out, and hide his stuff in the barn. Smitty managed to get a text out to Clint and Tony gave him an airlift out the back of the jet. He’s with Hemmi as far as I know.”

“Okay, so why is Ross _still_ here?” you asked.

“Professional courtesy, he said. He insisted on staying until the Queen had recovered enough to assure him herself she would be fine, along with demanding to know what you all were doing in China. Heimdall has been taking every opportunity to sit and sharpen his sword while looming and glaring. Tony finds it hilarious. Natasha has joined in and started cleaning her weapons. Bucky, too. Sam’s just wandering around with a permanent scowl, and Vision is keeping an eye on Wanda. She’s been a little… twitchy since he arrived.”

“Well, I guess I should let him pay his respects so he can get the hell out of here.” You turned to leave only to stop and gasp when your ribs pulled.

“You want a shot of something before you do that?” he asked, amusement in his tone.

“Can you just numb it up? They’re going to be fine in another couple more hours, but breathing kind of hurts right now.”

He chuckled but nodded and moved away to his workstation. “This is something I’ve been working on for Steve and Bucky. It’s an analgesic cream, penetrates deep, and numbs nerve endings. It’s super-powered,” he muttered as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves. “On anyone else, it would cause them to lose all feeling and mobility of the area, but for you bunch, it should be right up your alley.”

“You speaking from experience there, Brucey-bear?” you teased as you pulled your leather shirt up out of the way for him to swipe the cream over your ribcage.

“Was like being injected with novocaine,” he grumbled.

You snickered, then sighed when the relief was nearly instant. “Oh… that’s good stuff.”

“It should absorb fully,” he continued to mutter as he applied a small dab to your cheek and began to smooth it out, “but I’d appreciate any feedback you may have — odd sensations, tingling, more than the normal level of numbness. You actually make a good test subject as you’ve used the other stuff for regular people and know what it should do. So… thanks for being my guinea pig!” 

“I’ve been reduced to lab rat status. Great,” you huffed but smiled, more than willing to assist.

“And a damn fine job you’re doing.”

You gave him a swat in the arm as he pulled his gloves off. “I plan on having a shower. Long and hot. With much excessive soap use to get the grunge off and out of my hair. That going to be a problem?”

“Should all be absorbed in the next ten minutes, but if it does wash off, let me know.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” you said, leaning in to hug him.

He gave a stiff, one armed pat to your back. “Anytime.”

“What?” you asked, pulling away.

“Uh…” Easily felt heat filled his face. “You’re a little… under-underdressed.”

Your hands flew to your chest only to sigh. “What? I swim in less clothing than this!” The leather top was no different than a camisole to your mind.

“Things… um, _gape_!” he squeaked when you leaned toward him.

It made you laugh. “Alright, alright. You got an extra shirt I can borrow?”

He was quick to scramble over to a drawer in his desk and toss one your way. Dragging it over your head, you felt the slightly thicker coating on the front and grinned at him. “Which one is this?”

“Melting Rubix cube,” he grumbled. Bruce had a penchant for science shirts or _nerd wear_ as Nat affectionately called it. “It’s my favourite, so try not to get it bloody.”

“No promises,” you called over your shoulder. You hadn’t punched Ross last time. This time you weren’t so sure you could contain yourself.

“(Y/N)!” he barked as he followed you down the hall. “C’mon!”

A soft giggle welled in your chest, but you bit it back as you sauntered onward. He jogged a few steps until he could match your pace. The halls were deathly quiet for what essentially amounted to midday. It was odd and made the hair on your neck rise with concern, but there were no shouted alarms, no quickened heartbeats, only silence and the occasional sharp intake of breath.

Steve’s heart remained steadfast, calm, if marginally faster than normal, and it was it you focused on. If he wasn’t reacting with spikes and jumps, then things should be okay.

Rounding the corner you and Bruce both came to a halt when you found the reason no one was working was that nearly every person in the compound had gathered outside the walls of the glassed-in conference room to watch the fight happening on the screen within.

Around the table were your teammates in their preferred positions. Ross stood, arms crossed and mouth gaping, staring at the screen you could hear but not see. A couple of his henchmen were gathered behind him, and two more stood just beyond the open door.

Slowly, you began to weave your way through the sea of people, shushing them when they made to speak, working forward until you could lean against the open doorway, crossing both arms and legs. The battle replayed in your mind with each grunt and scream, each shout of the _ljå_. Steve’s arrival on the field made you frown, but you continued to listen as it played out.

Bruce stood just behind your shoulder. His breathing and heart jumped around. His hands opened and closed into fists, and his muscles twitched in anticipation of each blow. Something in his scent grew wild and dangerous, and you knew the Hulk was very close to the surface, watching and longing to have been involved in the battle.

You felt bad for leaving the big green guy out, but it was for his protection. His and the worlds. A Hulk made _ljå_? You couldn’t even imagine it and reached back to grip Bruce’s hand. His tightened once before the fidgeting gradually slowed and eventually stopped.

The sound of your elbow connecting with Tony’s suit as you screamed in denial, drew your attention back to the screen, and though you still couldn’t see it, you could hear what happened next and worked to piece it together.

A drop, powerful and deep, sending earth exploding around you. Wind whistled, and in it, you heard the howl of the wolf and the cries of your ancestors as your power rose. The warcry of your father tore from your throat, violent and ragged, leaving you wondering how you hadn’t shredded your vocal cords with that single sound as you cursed and berated the _ljå_ , swore and threatened it, and spewed vile curses you hadn’t even known you knew — things you would never have said in your right mind and flinched at the vulgarity. Sure you could swear like a sailor and had no qualms about bitching someone out, but that was downright nasty!

Then, that first initial step and the ground shook. Another and it tremored. A leap and the rocks seemed to creak and scream as the wave of your force blasted them.

Like Bruce had said, you called out to your sisters. To Tyra, Asta, Ingrid, Vigdís, and Brynhildr. You cried out, vowed vengeance and claimed retribution for your fallen friends. You swore it by Gungnir, Odin’s spear, that you would not stop until the last of the _Sjeletyv_ were purged from existence. With Odin’s name you beseeched him to lend you his wisdom, to Thor you sought his strength, and from Loki, you begged his cunning. You would need all three.

The rest unfolded in much screaming, the breaking of armour, and the crashing of stone as the others tried to get Steve to retreat, only to have him refuse to leave you behind. They wouldn’t have left you there, that much you did know, only moved to the tunnel so as not to be slammed flat by the rocks falling from the ceiling, but his refusal both made your heart swell and pissed you off a little further.

He’d taken unnecessary risks — ones which could have ended far differently. As it was, you checked every one of the team, making damn sure no one had had their soul sipped before relaxing your vigil in time to hear your parting words and Vision’s translation.

A blush, pale and light, coated your cheeks at hearing yourself claim Steve like he was something you owned. You never wanted him to feel like that. That being _sjelevenn_ was an act of possession. He wasn’t cattle to be branded and paraded around like a _thing_ of value.

Bruce’s hand squeezed yours and let go, drawing you from your musings as you called out weakly for Steve and passed out.

“Well… that was fun. I’ve never gotten to see myself go full berserker before. Though I guess _see_ is a relative turn,” you quipped as the volume on the video lowered.

It was like everyone’s head was on a swivel when they all jerked your direction at the same time. The two men on the door jumped guiltily for having not noticed your arrival, then took a wary step away as you straightened from the doorframe.

“My lady,” Heimdall murmured, first to his feet where he bowed deeply. “Asgard celebrates your victory. Odin has extended his congratulations through me.”

“Loki?” you asked, only to have him shake his head. “Mischief god makes mischief even when he’s not here,” you muttered. His continued incarceration with the Valkyrjur was beginning to annoy you. They were holding the son of Odin. Even though the Valkyrjur might not follow Odin for more than orders, the keeping of his son was uncalled for, rude, and a snub to the All-father’s face. Something else for you to deal with when you returned.

“Highness,” Ross muttered, turning to face you. He stiffened, then relaxed. “Are you… fit to be out of medical?”

“Not my blood… well, most of it’s not mine,” you said with a feral grin. The stiffness of your hair and pants made you wonder how bad you looked. Someone had gotten a lot of the blood off your face and hands, but some of it had crept through holes the _ljå_ had shredded in your armour to coat your legs and stomach.

“Fine. Then how about you explain yourself?” he barked and pointed at the screen. “You claim you’re not inhuman, but that looked pretty damn inhuman to me!”

The feral smile never wavered as you stepped further into the room to stand at Tony’s back. “I’m not inhuman. What I am is a Valkyrie, a special kind of Valkyrie. One of a kind if you will.”

“You know the suspense is killing me,” Tony huffed, swivelling his chair so he could look up at you. “Just spill it! You stink like three kinds of nasty, and I’d like not to smell you anymore.”

“Rude,” you huffed but smirked down at him. “I’m a Berserker.”

“Like… run through battle naked and screaming Viking Berserker?” Clint asked, staring at you in shock.

“Did you see me get naked at any point in that battle, feathers?” you snarled at him and rolled your eyes. “Berserkers were a group of native Asgardians, the people of my father. When Asgard went to war, you wanted the Berserkers on your side. I’m sure after seeing that,” you flicked your hand at the screen, “you can make your own assumptions as to why that was. But the Berserkers throughout our history have always been male. There had never been a female born to the clan with the power… until me.”

“More secrets, (Y/N),” Steve muttered.

You turned cold and harsh eyes his direction. “I never kept this a secret. Don’t dig yourself a deeper hole, Captain. We’re already going to be having _words_ about the stupid ass thing you did today… yesterday. Whenever!”

“You never told me about this!” he barked, rising to his feet to lean toward you over the table.

A growl, deadly and hard ripped from your throat. “Use what little brain cells weren’t frozen to think and remember, Captain! I told you that day on the roof about going full Berserker on the _ljå_ who took out that village. Who killed that child! Call me a liar again, and you’ll regret it!”

“I didn’t call you a liar!”

“It was clearly implied!”

“Hey, how about we all just take a few deep, calming breaths-”

“Shut up, Sam!” The two of you yelled at the same time.

You turned your attention back to Ross. “As you can see, _sir_ , I’m perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern and for stopping by, but if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been informed I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

“We’re not done, Highness!” Ross snapped. “How did you know about that thing? Where did it come from? Who gave you the intel?”

“I’m sorry, but we’re done.” Tony snickered as you turned to leave, only to have Ross’s men step into your path. “I just took off the head of a nine-foot monster with little more than a sword and my bare hands. You are going to want to get the fuck out of my way!”

When they didn’t move but looked to Ross for direction, you lost what little hold you had left on your temper. It was nothing more than a shove, but both went straight through the glass walls encasing the conference room. “Whoops. It appears they fell. Pity how clumsy some people are,” you muttered.

A deep, rolling chuckle spilled from Bruce, and a voice that was not his own rumbled, “Feisty girl. We fight later.”

“You got it, Hulk baby!” You sent him a wink and sauntered out without so much as a by-your-leave. At this point, you figured you’d earned a freebie for insubordination and attitude.

Anger still rippled inside you, hot and sharp, seeming to tear at your heart and soul. It was mixed with the bitter taste of fear, the flavour reawakening with the recount of Steve’s idiocy.

He’d come so close. So close to losing everything. He could have died. He could have lost his soul, and you would never have gotten another life with him.

The harsh reality of what might have been pounded down on you and your hand shook as you reached for the door knobbed. He hadn’t followed, likely staying to deal with the fallout from Ross. You were actually thankful for the reprieve, needing time to collect yourself when the first tear slipped from your eye.

You nearly fell in the door and trudged to the bath, not bothering with the light. The water came on, and you were quick to strip out of Bruce’s shirt. You hadn’t gotten blood on it, surprisingly, and even though you’d shoved two grown men out the what essentially amounted to windows, neither of them had been injured beyond their pride and a few bruises.

Once Bruce’s shirt landed beside the sink, you stepped fully clothed, boots and all, beneath the spray to slide down the wall until you could rest your head on your knees. Anger became all-consuming fear and the thoughts of _what if_ circled relentlessly as you sat there shaking, waiting out the anguish of what could have been.

The mental image, one which was more shapes and shadows, of the _ljå_ going after Steve, would be forever ingrained in your mind as the third time you’d nearly lost him. Lost your _sjelevenn_ on a battlefield because you weren’t quick enough, strong enough, good enough to save him. If you weren’t blessed to be what you were, you would have lost him, right then and there, in a manner most horrid.

A sob racked your body right as the glass door swung open. “Go away, Steven.”

***

After her outburst in the conference room, he’d expected anger, rage, and likely yelling. He’d been ignoring the fluctuating heart in his chest, his own temper running hot and burning through the pain he was feeling, ignoring it as nothing more than the physical pain she had to be in still.

But seeing her curled up, looking tiny on the floor, soaked and shivering even beneath the hot spray and steam had all his indignation falling away. He shut the door and listened to her sob while twisting himself into a pretzel to get out of his suit. Once he’d shucked it down his legs, he peeled himself out of his undershirt and shorts and opened the door a second time. She didn’t even snarl, just turned her face away and leaned her temple on her knee.

“Baby,” he sighed as he knelt beside her and tried to pull her against him.

Her hand slammed into his chest, and she shoved him back. “No! No, you don’t just get to cuddle and pretend everything’s fine, Steven! You said you’d stay out of it, that you trusted me to get it done, but you didn’t! You just had to jump in like always, be the damn hero, and nearly got-” Her voice broke on a harsh sob.

“(Y/N)…” he sighed, her pain, her fear and despair seeming to tear at him, rip a gaping hole in his chest. “I did trust you. I knew you could do it.”

“Then _why_? Why would you do that? Why would you- when you knew! You knew what could happen! Gods!” She shoved to her feet to stand wet and dripping, leather plastered to her body and rivers of red and purple streaming from her frame to swirl down the drain before him. The colour matched the bloom of bruising around her eye and along her cheek, and he imagined it would match the explosion of the same colour across her ribs.

He surged to his feet to loom over her, better equipped to deal with anger than tears at the moment. “Because we’re better together, goddammit! Do you think I couldn’t see how every time she shrieked or screamed you lost a step? That I wouldn’t know how blind you were in that instant? Of course, I came to help you! I’ll always come to help you!”

“You damn ass! Do you know what it felt like when I caught the scent of your blood?” She slammed both palms to his chest and rocked him back. “How fucking terrified I was? _Do you_!?”

“Yes!” he bellowed, grabbing her by the wrists and jerking them behind her back, forcing her chest into his with the action. “You forget I can feel what you feel! I know exactly what raced through you at that moment, but you saved me!”

She struggled but his grip was unbreakable, and she snarled in frustration before kneeing him in the thigh.

Grunting, Steve swung her around and into the wall where he caged her, hands now above her head and his body a solid mass of immovable, pissed off muscle. “Watch it, sweetheart,” he growled.

“You watch it, Captain! You did a stupid thing, and I’ve every right to call you on it!”

“But you saved me!”

“I might not have! Dammit, Steven! You just don’t get it!” She bucked, wiggled, and writhed, rubbing wet leather and fucking gorgeous curves against him.

His body responded without his permission and made him even madder for being turned on and pissed off at the same time. “Then why don’t you explain it to me, (Y/N). Maybe you’d best use small words so what few brain cells I have left can understand you!”

“I can’t control it!”

He frowned. “What?”

“The power,” she sighed, seeming to deflate as her struggle ended. “The men could always turn it on or turn it off at will. I can’t. I don’t get a choice. Something happens to trigger it, and it’s like a switch flips in my brain. I disappear to be replaced by… a much more violent form of myself. I lose time, say and do things that I wouldn’t when I’m just… this. It’s me… but not me.”

“Baby,” he sighed, releasing her wrists to cup her face carefully. “It’s okay. You saved me. I’m right here.”

“But I might not have…” she whispered as tears began to trail down her cheeks again. “I could have lost you down there. Again. And this time there would have been no second chance. You would have been gone. Forever!” Her head bowed, and her forehead fell against his chest as she cried out the fear.

Steve closed his eyes and turned his face into her hair. He shifted to hold her tightly, clinging to her as the truth became blindingly bright. Did he regret rushing in to help her? No. Did he regret the pain he’d caused, the fear doing so had put in her heart? With everything he was. But he would do it again in a heartbeat.

“I couldn’t just stand back and watch. I couldn’t, not after you screamed. It was like a piece of me just… tore open. I had to help. _I had to_! Nothing was going to stop me from coming to you. Not even you.”

Her hands, which had drifted down to lay against his chest, curled into fists and she tapped one against his heart a few times. “You’re a stubborn, pigheaded, cantankerous old fart with a death wish, doing stupid things like jumping from planes with no parachute. I should have known rushing in to try and help kill a creature that could literally suck out your soul would be right up your alley.”

“And yet, you still love me.”

“Yeah. I should have let Heimdall drag your ass out of there,” she muttered.

“You and I both know I’d a kicked his ass if he tried.”

She snorted out a half laugh. “You would have tried.”

“Baby.” He caught her chin and lifted it up to see her gorgeous eyes. “If he were tryin’ to keep me from getting back to you, I’d a succeeded.”

A smirk twitched her lips. “I believe you would, _sjelevenn_.”

“So, am I forgiven?”

“Am I?” she asked. “I guess I never really explained about being a Berserker, and I was kind of snippy in the conference room.”

Steve chuckled softly at her use of snippy. He’d dragged her out of places where she’d been in a full temper and knew it could have been a lot worse. “I probably shouldn’t admit to the fact I thought your insubordination was hot.”

“Oh, really?” She smirked a wide grin. “Do tell.”

“I’d rather show,” he murmured, nudging his hips into hers.

“Why, Captain! How very unprofessional of you,” she snickered and began to slide her hands over his chest. “Did our little tiff turn you on?”

“Not so much the snarling but having you wriggling around all wet and sexy? Yeah, baby.” Most of the blood had washed down the drain, and Steve nuzzled his nose into her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “How about we get you out of these wet clothes?”

“Can’t have a proper shower with them on.”

“Definitely not,” he chuckled and caught the hem of her shirt to peel it up over her head and let it fall with a wet plop. Her faulds came next, hitting the ground with a clank before he kicked them aside. He tsked softly as he looked down, though his hands were busy brushing and massaging her beautiful breasts. “Boots in the shower? That’s just wrong.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, arching into his touch. “What are you going to do about… _Captain_?”

He lowered to his knees, smirk ever present, his hands slipping down her wet torso to rub gentle circles on her skin. Careful of her ribs, Steve leaned in and kissed her beside the dimple of her belly button and nipped sharp teeth into her flesh to make her gasp. “Gonna have to reprimand you for it, doll. First, you get all snippy with your superior; then there was the use of excessive force - which, by the way, Tony said is coming out of your pay to replace the glass - and now I find you abusing your uniform? You’re racking up points as a troublemaker.” The ties on her pants were well and truly swollen when he gave them a testing tug.

“Steven,” she moaned and threaded her hands through his hair.

The ties gave when he wrenched them apart with a quick jerk and began to roll the wet leather down her legs. “Yeah, baby?” he murmured, snapping the ones on her boots when her pants hung up on her knees.

Her hand closed in his hair, and she tugged until his chin lifted and breath caught at the sight of her smile. “I think you’ve forgotten who the Queen in this relationship is,” she purred and caressed his cheek.

He could only grin and shake his head. “Oh, darling. I ain’t ever gonna forget that,” Steve said as he lifted her foot and worked the first boot off. Once he had the second free, he stripped her pants down to her ankles and let her kick them aside.

The softness of her skin called to him, and he was helpless but to reach out and wrap his hands around the back of her knees. He pulled her forward, off the wall and against him so he could place tender kisses and light nips to her thighs before turning his nose to the thatch of curls between her legs. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he murmured as he nudged and nuzzled against her, finding her scent intoxicating as always.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you in front of the others,” she sighed and stroked her hands through his hair, her nails skating over his scalp.

“How are you feeling, dollface?” he asked, his body throbbing with need.

“Bruce numbed everything up.” She whimpered and moaned softly when he darted his tongue out to taste her.

He hummed in pleasure but pulled away to get back to his feet and reached for her braid.

“Meanie,” she pouted.

Steve chuckled. “After we get cleaned up. Stark was right. You stink, and I can’t imagine I smell any better. Besides, he’s decreed karaoke tonight, and until then we are all free to chill.”

“Chill, huh? And just what does your definition of _chill_ include, _sjelevenn_?” she asked, her nimble fingers wrapping firmly around his cock.

He gently worked her braid free and tried not to groan in delight. “Spending a serious amount of time with my girl and no clothing,” he quipped, only to bite his lip when she gave a twist to her stroking. “Baby…”

“Why don’t you wash my back, and I’ll wash yours, Steven.”

“That’s not my back, doll.”

She grinned wickedly. “I know.”

He laughed and reached for the shampoo.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Smut, NSFW 18+, swearing and Steve’s dirty mouth.
> 
> Song: A Thousand Years by Christina Perri

* * *

You didn’t quite make it to the bed.

After three rounds of shampoo, both you and Steve decided you no longer smelled like  _ Sjeletyv _ , and the shower went from a necessity of cleanliness to wandering hands and heated kisses. Slow, soft, tender touches while the water ran and steam billowed until Steve seemed unable to take any more and groped for the handle to turn the water off.

He tugged you from inside, frantic hands working to towel you dry, slowing only when he reached the bruises on your ribs and the one around your eye. He paused, touching your face gently, his fingers light on your cheek before he rang the water from your hair and squeezed the towel around it.

“ _ Sjelevenn _ ,” you whispered, finding the sudden care endearing. Your hands found his waist, skimmed over wet flesh, traced the definition in his torso. He was slick from the shower, and you leaned forward to slide your tongue over his chest. He jolted when you nipped sharp teeth into his pec causing his breath to catch.

His hands clamped down on your ass and jerked you up his body, prompting you to throw your arms around his neck. The cut on his lip was nearly gone, the swelling having vanished in the interim since you’d left China, but when you licked at his mouth, you could still feel the small cut and taste the slight coppery flavour of his blood.

You bit it gently and worried it with your teeth — a little warning and reprimand for what might have been. He groaned, and you swept your tongue over it. “A reminder for the moment,” you murmured. “For the next hour, every time you kiss me you’ll feel your lip and know how close I came to losing you.”

“This your way of punishing me, baby?” he asked, a smile quirking up his lips.

“Oh, Captain,” you smirked. “If I were punishing you, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

He chuckled and walked with you out of the bathroom but only made it as far as the wall beside the door when you wrapped your legs around his hips. “Cheeky dame. You’re so mouthy.”

“You like me mouthy. Admit it.”

“I-” His voice ended on a growl when you rocked your hips into his and slid your wet core up his cock.

“Cat got your tongue, Captain?” you teased.

“There’s a pussy involved but it ain’t of the feline variety,” he grumbled, jacking you higher on the wall.

A laugh burst from you. “Wow! So dirty!”

His nose brushed your cheek, and he chuckled when he murmured against your ear, “I just know how much you like it, sweetheart. You think I could make your pussy purr?”

You snorted out another giggle but couldn’t deny the way his words made your core clench and your womb throb. “I bet you could.”

“You want me to try, baby? Pet it real nice?” he whispered, slowly thrusting against you, stroking his cock through your slick and over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “You like that, doll face? Feel good, _ min vakre skjoldpike _ ?”

You could only pant and gasp, clinging to his broad shoulders as you gave a frantic nod. “I love it when you call me that,” you moaned, letting yourself fall into the sensations.

“ _ Jeg elsker deg _ ,” he whispered, placing sucking kisses along your jaw and down your throat. “So damn much.”

“I love,” you whimpered when he bit your shoulder and thrust a little harder over your clit, “you too!”

“Baby, you feel so good. Fuck, you’re so wet,” he moaned, continuing to bite and suck and lick at your shoulder.

Your walls clenched on nothing and you cried out, “Steve, please!”

“Yeah, yeah, I got you.” His body seemed to coil back, dragging through your folds, then plunged forward and straight through your tight walls to bottom out without giving you time to adjust.

A sharp gasp and cry left you, prompting him to pause and breathe against your throat. “Sorry, sorry… that was too rough.”

“Just right,” you assured him. “Steve, move!” You were going to explode soon if he didn’t.

He shook slightly, muscles coiled. One hand went to the wall beside your head as the other gripped your ass tighter. “Gonna fuck you so hard, darlin’.”

The thrill of excitement that one sentence gave you was unreal. “Then do it, Cap- _ tain _ !” You shrieked with the first hard thrust as he set a punishing pace. “Oh, my god! Fuck! Yes!”

A dark chuckle left his chest as the hand on the wall shifted to wrap around your throat. His thumb gently stroked your jaw and fingers kneaded your straining muscles. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it, my Queen?”

You melted, there was no other way to describe it, just melted into him, muscles loosening as you let him take you up, drive you higher while you carded your nails through his hair. His hand squeezed, and you rasped out a shaky breath. You gave up control. Let your brain turn off in the face of the waves of unrelenting pleasure cascading through your body. Truly blind, you focused on his body moving in yours, his heart beating in time with the one in your chest, and the brush of his lips on your skin.

“Answer me,” he growled softly, pressing your harder against the wall.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes… Captain.” You whimpered when he pulled you from the wall, but it was only to spin and take you the final few steps to the bed where he laid you on it.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, Captain.”

He sat back, still buried deep, to stroke his hands down your torso, touch and tease your nipples, and rub his thumb over your clit.

A mewl left your lips.

A smirk curved his. “Damn that’s pretty. You get all soft and pliant. Bet I could do anything I wanted, and you’d just make that sweet, kitten sound as long as I was buried to the hilt. Wouldn’t you…  _ Sváfa _ ?”

He never called you Sváfa. It simply went unspoken she was who you once were, and wasn’t who you were today. But to hear that name fall from the lips of the man who’d once growled it low and deep when you’d wrapped his hair around your fist and tugged him down, held him to you while he’d loved you, worshiped you, given every bit of his scar marked body to you, was shocking and set you shaking beneath him.

Your lack of verbal response didn’t seem to bother him though as Steve continued speaking, his big hand returning to wrap lightly beneath your jaw.

“You look so damn sexy, too — blissed out and flushed. No, no, (Y/N),” he stroked his thumb along your jaw to tug your lip. “Keep those eyes open, darlin’.”

“Steve… please.” He was big and hard and hot inside you but so still. You ached to have him move again, send the pleasure only he could give throbbing through your body.

“That’s right, baby. I’m gonna make you beg; then I’m gonna wreck you. Fuck you so damn good you’ll scream the roof down.”

“Promises, promises,” slipped out before you could bite the words back.

“Was that lip?” he growled. “Are you being insubordinate  _ again _ ?”

“No, Cap?” You bit your lip and tried for innocent.

“I think, yes, Cap would have been the correct response, Agent,” he said as he drew your leg from behind his back to lift it over his shoulder, and ground his hips down into yours. “Such a bad girl.” He slowly lowered over you, stretching you out and pressing down on the back of your thigh.

You yelped in pain, and he immediately sat up.

“Fucking ribs!” you groaned, bringing your hand to your side.

“Shit!” he hissed, clearly swearing at himself as he let your leg slide from his shoulder. “Damn, baby you make me forget myself. I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding himself up on his hands as he bent to kiss you.

“So much for that,” you sighed, pouting a little. Not that you didn’t enjoy just regular sex with Steve, but kinky dominant Steve revved your engine.

“Sweetheart,” he chuckled, and it was dark and wicked. “We so ain’t done.”

Before you could ask what he meant by that, he was rolling, and you were going with him, winding up straddling his lap, still connected, and feeling even fuller than before.

“Fuck me!” you wheezed.

“That’s the plan, doll face.” He heaved up, his grip on your hips unbreakable, taking the two of you farther up the bed until he sat against the headboard.

You moaned, growing wetter with the show of strength and heavenly feel of him filling you so completely. “Dammit, Steven!”

His hand tangled in your hair and drew you in until his lips hovered close to yours. “That’s Captain, darlin’,” he growled, his opposite hand coming down firmly on your ass.

“Ho boy!” you squeaked, the heat of his palm warming your flesh with the spank.

“Such a deviant,” he teased.

“You love it as much as I do.”

“More back talk,” he tsked softly. “That deserves at least three.” They came swiftly, heating your backside and drenching his cock.

“Captain, please!” You really needed some friction.

His hands landed on your waist and rolled your hips forward, careful of your ribs. The glide of his length through your folds set bursts of fireworks going off in your body. He pulled you forward and pushed you back twice more before his hands and arms became steel and you were trapped again.

Another mewl, this one of disappointment left your lips.

“What did I say about those eyes, baby doll?”

You blinked them open, not realizing you’d closed them. “On you, Captain.”

“That’s right,” he let you rock forward again. “Hands on my chest, darlin’.”

That was an order you were happy to follow, sliding them over his velvet-like skin, warm and soft and smooth. The pounding of his heart showed you weren’t the only one affected by his demands. Not that the rod lodged between your thighs wasn’t a dead giveaway.

He lifted your hips, allowing for more glide, more fiction, as he took your closer to your orgasm. “You’re so pretty like this,” he murmured, catching a nipple in his mouth and giving it a strong pull. “I could just watch your ride me all day.”

Sweat trickled down your spine. “ _ Sjelevenn _ ,” you moaned as you ground down on him. “ _ Sjelevenn… jeg trenger deg… Nei _ !” you groaned when his hands locked down and kept you still.

“What was that, doll face?” he asked, his fingers flexing on your hips.

“I need you! Dammit, Cap! Stop teasing!” you barked.

“But we’ve hardly even scratched the surface of all the rules you’ve broken today. You’re in big trouble.”

“Fuck!” you hissed, throwing your head back in exasperation. “Cap, please!” you begged. The inferno raging in your belly ached to be set free.

Another wicked chuckle escaped his chest, but he relented and let go. “Take what you need, baby.”

You ground down once and rose above him only to swiftly drop your hips down again. “Oh, yes,” sang from your lips as the fire and flutter grew in your abdomen. One hand went to the headboard, grasped it tightly to give you leverage, and you cupped Steve’s face with the other. “You’re so mean,  _ sjelevenn _ . Making me wait. Denying me. How cruel,” you pouted even as you gasped and moaned with the intense pleasure flooding your body.

His hand swatted your ass twice in rapid succession. “You deserve it, speaking to your Captain like that in public.” He grunted when your core clenched. “Wrecking your uniform.”

Your spine arched when he began to flex up, drive himself deeper, and the hand on his face fell to press against his throat. “Too many rules,” you whined and made him laugh.

“So mouthy.”

You brought yours to his and sucked on his lip. “You like it.”

“Yeah, I really do,” he sighed and drove himself harder inside you.

“Flames of Valhalla, Steven!” you shrieked as rockets seemed to ignite in your belly.

His hands were everywhere, stroking, squeezing, massaging. They kept returning to your breasts to torment your nipples with gentle brushes and pluckings until you were ready to scream down the sky.

“I can’t. I can’t, Steve,  _ please _ !” No matter how good it felt, you couldn’t get there, the stars just out of reach, until his hand latched in your hair and dragged your head back.

“It’s  _ Captain _ !” he snarled and bit the side of your throat hard enough to leave a wicked bruise.

Your scream was loud, long, and ended with a moan which would have embarrassed you if you’d been in any situation but this one. Your walls swelled and clenched so hard it curled you forward, your head coming to rest on Steve’s shoulder. Small cries and desperate breathing racked you, sending little twinges of pain through your ribs with each continued pulse of your core. Apparently, Bruce’s cream had worn off, or maybe you’d just surpassed its numbing capabilities with the Captain’s vigorous actions nature.

“God… fuck…  _ shit _ !” Steve finally hissed, your milking body forcing his release, evidently far sooner than he was planning.

Another soft moan fell from your lips when his hips thrust up and knocked you into a new round of aftershocks. “Jesus… Steven…”

“I definitely wasn’t him in a past life,” he chuckled softly, wrapping you in his arms as his heart slowed its rapid pounding. He held you gently, his body warm and comforting when you snuggled against him. “You just keep lighting me up, doll face. Every touch is like the first time. Every kiss familiar but still so new.”

You slipped your arms around his neck and rested your foreheads together. “ _ Du fyller mitt hjerte med din kjærlighet _ . You fill my heart with your love,” you sighed, translating for him before he could ask.

He lifted you without effort to lay you at his side. His arms cradled you close while your legs tangled and his hand came up to brush feather light against your bruised cheek. “Do you know how proud I am of you? Of what you’ve accomplished in such little time? You  _ astound  _ me. Not just surprise but astound me.”

“Steve…” you breathed, but his lips claimed yours, and he stole whatever you were going to say next when he took your breath away.

“I’ve watched you change, grow stronger, remember who you were, and retain who you are. You’ve become the most incredible, special, amazing woman I’ve ever known. I watched you step out on that field yesterday like you owned it. The way you moved and fought…” He slowly shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like that. You were…  _ glorious _ ,” he sighed as he kissed your lips. “A goddess on Earth.” He placed a whisper of a kiss on your bruised cheek. “You make me proud to be your  _ sjelevenn _ , not that I wasn’t before, but now… shit, you’re gonna kick some serious ass, and I’m gonna stand back and watch with a smirk because that’s  _ my girl _ .”

You chuckled softly, forcing it past the lump in your throat which had formed with his praise. “You’re too good, Steve. I can see why you were chosen for the serum. Your heart is so pure.”

“Haven’t I always had a pure heart?” he asked, his fingers teasing along your ribcage.

“Always, but it seems… more this time around. You’re just  _ brighter  _ all over. Even your soul,” you traced your nail down his chest, “is bigger. There’s just more to you this life.”

“I think whoever it is who’s been messing with our path is in for a rude awakening,” he murmured as he took his mouth down your throat.

“Yeah?” You arched into his seeking lips.

“Yeah. They kind of fucked themselves. You’re back to being who you were, all your lives intact, and even though you lost your sight, at times I think you’re… better without it.”

“You’re not wrong,” you sighed when soft lips found your nipple. “There are certain things I can do now I would never have been able to before.”

“And you’ve got me. I don’t think they planned on you ending up with a super soldier  _ sjelevenn _ ,” he chuckled.

“That will be a surprise, I’m sure,” you murmured, sliding your hands into his hair.

He sucked your breast into his mouth and released it with a pop. “Bucky wants to come.”

“Huh?” you startled at the change of subject, arousal already snaking its way back through your body.

“To Asgard. Bucky wants to come with us.”

“Steve…” you sighed. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

His finger landed on your lips before you could further your protest. “Hear me out before you say no.”

You studied him in your way, finding the beat of his heart elevated, and his skin flushed. There was a slight tremor in his hand which screamed anxiety. He was worried, clearly, so you nodded.

He breathed out a breath you knew he’d been holding. “We’re going into dangerous territory. You’re not going to know who you can and can’t trust besides Thor and Loki. I’ll be there to watch your back, but having someone like Buck along might not be a bad idea. He’s as strong as me, faster, and his arm isn’t anything to shrug at.”

“And how do I justify his presence?” you asked, seeing and understanding the reasoning behind it, but it wasn’t really that simple. “We’re a society of women, Steve. You’re my  _ sjelevenn _ . Your presence is understandable and expected, but the Valkyrjur isn’t a place where men are allowed to run around willy-nilly.”

“You said you usually have an honour guard, right? You can’t trust any of the ones they’ll likely give you, so you bring your own.”

“Only one and a man?” you snickered. “That really will put a few fires under a few tail feathers.”

“You know he can hold his own against anything thrown at him and it would make you appear an easy target.”

It was a tricky game of wounded wing, like a Killdeer leading a predator away from its nest. “I like it. It’s a plot worthy of Loki.” You chuckled softly, only for the giggles to grow until you were full on laughing and groaning, holding your ribs as you found it all incredibly funny. “Oh, man! A few people are going to lose their shit when I show up with a human guard and a man at that! I can’t wait to see Gunborg’s face!”

Steve chuckled along with you, simply enjoying your amusement until he distracted you rather handily with his mouth. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now… we chill.”

Another giggle slipped past your pursed lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck and drew him down to you. “Sure,  _ sjelevenn _ . Show me how you  _ chill _ .”

***

Hours later when your ribs and face were healed, and only the bruising had yet to fade, you slipped from the bed to dress and go in search of Matt. Steve had crashed hard, his exhaustion winning out after not sleeping these past two days, and you left him to it when Ross’s exit finally occurred.

After the second round of chill, Steve had laughingly told you about how badly Ross had sputtered when you’d left, his indignation coming out in half-formed words and sentences until he’d finally demanded someone get her highness back there.

It had been Heimdall who’d risen to his full height and educated Ross that _highness_ needed to be preceded by _her royal_ and followed by Queen Sváfa; otherwise the proper form of address was _her majesty_. He’d then continued, informing Ross his repeated breach of protocol and unwillingness to adhere to proper etiquette would see him removed from her majesty’s presence in the future as, eventually, his plebeian education would no longer excuse his behaviour. Then it became rudeness and rudeness would not be tolerated.

You’d laughed, disappointed you’d missed seeing the scolding of the century in person, and punched Steve in the shoulder when he’d rolled into your side and muttered, “Has this humble servant please her royal highness, my queen, my lady?”

The play fighting degenerated into round three and had completely worn your  _ sjelevenn  _ out, but you’d slept through a good portion of a day and had no more need of sleep. You did, however, want to see how Matt was holding up.

You could remember how hard the days following the death of your sisters had been. It wasn’t hard to imagine what he was going through.

Standing in the common room, the team’s preferred lounge area, you cast your senses out and sought the soft heart which beat so different than everyone else’s. It was always so quiet, but when a few minutes went by, and you still couldn’t find it, you headed out the front doors toward the barn.

Hemme was grazing when you approached, his hide warm beneath the sun, lifting the sent of dust and clouds into the air around him. He whickered and trotted over, nuzzling his nose into your cheek and expressing his happiness that you were back.

He’d been pretty annoyed he wasn’t going hunting with you but had settled down easily when you’d explained you were going with the team to a place beneath the ground. Pegasi didn’t do underground, and he was content to stay home.

“Hey, boy,” you murmured, scratching his cheek and petting his throat. “Is Matty with you?”

He made a sound that was mournful even for an equine.

“What do you mean he’s gone?” you gasped.

You listened intently as Hemme explained about the  _ jumpy  _ girl - what he called Susan the teleporter - bringing Matt’s gear to him, and how Matty had found it hidden in the hay. Matt talked about what happened underground, and Hemme had tried to offer comfort, though he - the pegasus - had known all along the smelly one would need to be dealt with. She was  _ ljå _ . No Pegasi in his right mind would ever allow one of their kind to live.

When his muscles tensed, you gently stroked his neck, soothing the riled steed. The time of the first war had been so traumatic, so many Pegasi had died, somehow they’d passed what the  _ Sjeletyv  _ smelled like onto the next generation, and the next, and down through the ages until it was simply just known in their genetics. No one could explain it, and you doubted they ever would.

Pegasi were magic, after all, and weirder things had happened.

After Matty had poured his heart out to Hemme, he’d asked the Pegasus to pass on a message.

Please don’t look for me.

Matt needed time to come to terms with things. Time to heal his heart. (Y/N) had learned everything he could teach her, as killing the  _ ljå _ had made abundantly clear. One day, likely, he would return to the Avengers, but for now, he needed time, and would she please tell Natasha… thank you.

You wrapped your arms around Hemme’s neck and just stood there while your heart bled a little for the man who’d been through so much. “I wish he’d stayed. I wish I could have said thank you,” you sighed, taking comfort in the warmth of your four-legged companion.

Hemme’s head curled over your shoulder, bestowing a hug as only an equine could. He snorted a moment later, making you smile.

“For someone so big, you’re exceptionally quiet, Heimdall.”

“Majesty,” he murmured, coming up beside you to stroke his hand down Hemme’s back.

You smacked him in his Henley clad stomach. “Cut it out.”

“It is your title. You will need to grow used to it.”

You stroked Hemme’s throat and turned to walk with Heimdall when the Pegasus went back to grazing. “And what do your eyes see, Guardian?” you asked, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Odin is right about the darkness in the heart of your people, but from where it originates?” He shrugged. “I cannot say.”

You sighed, feeling the stress of what was to come weighing on you already. “Will you keep your eyes open for me, Heimdall?”

“You do not even need to ask, my queen.”

“And Steve? You’ve only had days to work with him.”

“He is ready. The sword remembers and so then does the soul. His instincts are good, and his body follows with ease. He is already adept with his shield. Should he be given a challenge, he will prevail.”

A smile curled your lips, pride in your  _ sjelevenn  _ evident. “What about Bucky?”

“The sergeant?” He sounded confused.

“There is an… idea put forth. I’m considering having Bucky join us in Asgard… as my guard.”

He came to a dead stop, his breath hitched, and a roll of laughter like thunder poured from him. “You will set the Valkyrjur on fire!”

“Perhaps it’s time. Maybe the old ways need to be revamped.”

“I wondered about your  _ sjelevenn _ . The temple will take exception.”

“It’s archaic and derogatory,” you snorted.

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

“I know that!” you barked. “It was a sign of respect and something to be proud of. But even in my last life as a Valkyrie, it had become a sign of possession. He’s my partner, not my property!”

“Sváfa,” he rumbled, placing a hand on your shoulder. “It does not need to be.”

“It isn’t required. I won’t ask it of him.”

“As you say, my lady.”

“I’m sorry, Heimdall. You don’t deserve my ire,” you sighed.

“You have a big task ahead, and there will be much resistance I am certain. I do not envy your position, but if you are serious about the sergeant, you will not be disappointed. His skill is surprising. He has a natural ability with the sword and uses his arm as one would a shield. He would be a guard worthy of protecting the Valkyrie Queen.”

“The Valkyrie Queen can protect herself,” you grumbled.

“Feisty girl!” growled from above you.

You looked up just as the Hulk landed, shaking everything, having leapt from the roof of the compound. “Hulk, baby! You been pestering Bruce to let you out?”

“My turn! He promise. We fight now?”

You smiled up at Heimdall and patted his arm before moving closer to the Hulk. “Not fight, play. It’s a mock fight. I’d really rather you not actually smash me, okay?”

“Hulk no hurt. Hulk play.” He mimicked a gentle swat.

“Okay, big guy! I just need to grab a staff…”

He ripped a small tree out of the ground, snapped off its roots, stripped it of its branches, and thrust it at you with a grunt.

You chuckled and took it from him. It was a little long, and you looked to Heimdall. “Would you mind?”

His sword swept through the end and removed the excess weight so fast; he was already sliding the blade back into its sheath on his back before the wood hit the ground.

“Show of,” you huffed, setting Heimdall chuckling as you gave the new staff a test spin. The strength of the Hulk’s hands had stripped the bark as well, making the wood smooth beneath your palms.  “Nice.” You beamed up at the Hulk and giggled when he smiled and looked shyly away.

“No more wait?”

“No more wait,” you agreed. “Catch me if you can, Hulk baby!” Without further warning, you swung the staff down and knocked his feet out from under him.

He sprawled on his back, the ground shaking from the impact. “Hulk not ready!” he bellowed.

You crouched down beside him and patted his cheek. “This is how we play dodge-and-roll. I take your feet out and then you have to catch me and knock mine out from under me. But you can only go for my feet, okay?”

“Hulk understand.” His fist swept the ground and dumped you to your back.

“Hey!”

He jumped up. “Feisty girl’s turn.”

“You little faker!” you laughed, leaping up to race after him. “You make sure you keep your green behind on the ground!”

“You party pooper,” he grumbled, but his smile was wide as you chased him into the nearby open field.

A burst of speed had you catching up, swinging your staff around, and sending him crashing to the ground. The resounding landing had you hopping to stay on your feet when everything shook and rippled with the impact. “You okay, hun?” you asked, standing a few feet away.

“Hulk like game. How Hulk win?”

“Put me on the ground five times before I put you there, and you win.”

“We no take turns?” He asked, climbing to his feet.

“Nope!” you popped the ‘p’ and grinned at him. “Come play a Valkyrie game with me, Hulk.”

“We start count over.”

“Sure. We’ll start the count over.”

“Good. Now Hulk win,” he smirked and rushed toward you.

You laughed and ducked his charge, taking his feet out from under him again, and sending him tumbling. “If you think it will be that easy, I wouldn’t be Queen.”

  
  



	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: foul language, fighting
> 
> Song: Say You Won’t Let Go by James Arthur

## Chapter Twenty Two

* * *

The ground shaking woke Steve from a sound sleep with a jolt, and he sat up feeling groggy and disoriented. “(Y/N)?” he murmured, rubbing his face to try and clear the fog, wondering if they were having an earthquake.

When the roar burst through the air to rattle his brain and shake the ceiling, he was up, out of bed, dragging on jeans and throwing on a shirt in seconds. The sound was an unmistakable one and set his heart pounding. The second one thudding in his chest gave him a moment of terror for clearly, wherever the Hulk was having his meltdown, there (Y/N) would be with how hard her heart pounded. 

He shoved his feet into shoes, grabbed his shield and his girl’s sword, and pounded out the door. Steve hit the nearest exit, raced down the side of the compound, stumbled when the ground shook again and rounded the corner only to slow to a stop. Lined up along the edge of the field, there had to be three dozen people watching the happenings.

None of them appeared concerned by what was occurring in front of them, and when he turned his attention to the two combatants in the field, he came to the startling realization the Hulk wasn’t angry…

He was laughing.

Steve shook his head and made his way closer to join Heimdall, Bucky, and Sam where they stood together off to the side.

“Whatcha doing, pal?” Bucky chuckled, eyeing the sword and shield in Steve’s hands.

“You try being woken from a dead sleep to the Hulk… is he laughing? And the ground shaking and see if you don’t have a moment of panic,” Steve grumbled.

“She did say she’d fight with him later.” Sam snickered. “You’re shirt’s on inside out, Cap.”

“And backward,” Heimdall commented.

Steve glanced down to find the tag sticking out and sighed. “I was asleep, jerks,” he grumbled, shoving the sword at Bucky and the shield at Sam so he could tear his shirt off over his head. Catcalls erupted around them, and Steve rolled his eyes as he jerked it back on correctly. “Assholes.”

Bucky laughed and patted his shoulder. “Aw, c’mon, pal. The girls are just showing their appreciation.”

Steve just tried not to blush and kept his eyes on his girl. “What’s she doing?”

“Playing with him,” Heimdall said. “She is teaching him to be more precise, more discerning with his actions. ‘Dodge-and-Roll’ is a game the Valkyrjur play with the accolades, the maiden Valkyrie, to teach them to be light, flowing, to move with purpose and watch their feet.”

“She’s teaching the Hulk to be more direct and less _smash_ ,” Bucky chuckled. “And the craziest thing is-” He stopped when (Y/N) took the feet out from under the big green guy again, sending him tumbling to his back, where he landed with a heavy crash. "He likes it."

A hardy chuckle rolled from him, a deep _ho ho ho_ sound, like a strange kind of Santa, that (Y/N) giggled along with when she sat on his shoulder and patted his cheek.

“That was fun, Hulk baby,” she said sliding from his shoulder when he rolled to his knees and got to his feet.

“One more?” Hulk asked, sounding like an eager puppy.

“What’s Bruce say?” she countered, leaning against her staff and smiling up at him.

The Hulk cocked his head, clearly listening to his counterpart. “He say one more,” he grinned wide, showing rows of enormous white teeth.

She laughed but nodded, and skipped away to twirl the staff around behind her and over her arm. “Alright. Last one.”

The roar Steve had heard earlier returned, making him flinch, but (Y/N) never even wavered, just turned her body and crooked her fingers. The ground quaked when the Hulk raced toward her.

She giggled and danced to the side when a large hand swept at her feet. She twirled like a dancer, laughing brightly, sounding happy and light and free in a way Steve hadn’t heard in weeks. Her staff swept down, trying to catch the back of the Hulk’s knee, but the big green guy lifted his foot, and she missed.

“Good!” (Y/N) praised, and Steve could have sworn the Hulk blushed.

“Holy shit,” Steve murmured, watching in amazement as the member of the team most likely to be called _the wrecking crew_ went after his girl with more skill and dexterity than he’d ever seen. “Damn…”

“I know, right?” Sam chuckled. “You should hear him laugh when he-” Sam didn’t have to finish when a single green finger caught the back of his girl’s leg and sent (Y/N) tumbling to her back.

Her breath burst out in a soft _oof_ prompting the Hulk to throw his head back and laugh. The _ho ho ho_ sound becoming even louder, longer, and almost jolly, while (Y/N) laid on her back and laughed along with him.

A big green hand eventually scooped her up, and the Hulk plopped her down on his shoulder. “Hulk like you, feisty girl.”

(Y/N) giggle and bussed a kiss to his temple. “I like you too, Hulk baby. You did good today. We’ll have to play again.”

“Hulk like game. Hulk win.”

“I won!”

He poked a finger at her belly. “Hulk win.”

“How about we say we tied?” she offered, shoving his finger when he made her giggle.

“Tie is good,” the Hulk grunted. “You fight good.”

“You too, hun.” She ruffled his hair and jumped to the ground while applause and cheering rose from the gathered group. Laughing, she swept the group a bow.

Steve had to chuckle when the Hulk followed her lead and then patted her gently on the head. He made to call out, commend them on their performance when Heimdall stiffened and turned his head to stare at the sky.

“Sváfa!” he bellowed. “The Valkyrjur rides!”

She spun to face Heimdall with a gasp. “Now?”

“They are coming!”

“Shit!” she swore and ran toward them.

“What’s that mean?” Steve asked when she raced to a stop.

“The Valkyrie are coming. Here! Now!” she said, taking her sword from Bucky.

“Why?” Bucky asked. “How would they know?”

“When she fought the _ljå_ she used her full power. It was a risk, a calculated one. We knew they might feel the flare of her strength and the magic of her sword,” Heimdall answered for her. “When they did not immediately ride, I thought we’d been deep enough beneath the ground to avoid detection.”

“Baby,” Steve growled.

“Look. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but there was no point in everyone worrying about something we didn’t think would happen. Heimdall? Where?” she barked.

Golden eyes glared at the sky. “They will arrive before the compound. You have only moments, my queen.”

She turned and ran, the rest of them hot on her heels.

With the way her heart pounded in his chest, Steve let it go. She was scared, really scared, and feeling unprepared for what was coming.

She skidded to a stop in the gravel, and Steve took her arm. “Just breath, sweetheart. You’ve got this.”

“I’m not ready,” she whispered.

“Yeah, you are. You’re ready. You can do this,” he assured her, shifting his hand to her waist. “You’re a queen.” He brought his lips to her ear. “My queen.”

“Steve…”

“ _Jeg elsker deg_ ,” he whispered.

The air above them crackled and snapped violently. The doors to the compound opened, revealing the rest of their team, while the looming shadow and deep growl at his back showed Bruce had not returned, the Hulk maintaining control until this confrontation ended.

The air shimmered near the roofline of the compound, then as if time itself had torn apart, nine pegasi appeared on the wing, taking a turn around the compound before coming in for a landing. Nine more followed, then another group of nine, and another, and another, all grey, white, or dappled. The first group landed in a three by three square, the second two groups landed back and to either side of the first, and the final two sets of nine fell in behind them, creating a staggered ‘v’ of heavily armed women and battle-ready pegasi.

The woman riding the middle pegasi of the first group slid to the ground and stalked slowly forward. “ _Hvor er bedrageren_?”

Steve had no idea what she said, but with the way (Y/N) stiffened, it couldn’t be good.

“I’m no imposter, Gunborg!” she growled, stepping forward and Steve went with her.

Sam slipped his shield to him, and Steve nodded minutely without looking away from the fur and leather-clad woman whose hand had gone to her sword.

“So, it is you who claim to be the Queen of the Valkyrjur?”

“I am Queen,” (Y/N) snarled and snapped her hand out. “My _velsignet sverd Glemsel_ is returned to my hand, my _sjelevenn_ walks at my side, and…” She let out a piercing whistle.

It was answered by the shockingly loud bellow of an angry stallion. Hemme burst out of the trees at a full gallop, sat back on his haunches to skid to a stop, and reared up on his hind legs, spreading those enormous wings to their full length as he screamed out a challenge. The rest of the pegasi shifted restlessly, and Steve noted the size difference between Hemme and the others.

The big black was hands taller and heavier of muscle than any of the greys.

(Y/N) stepped away to go to Hemme’s side and calm the anxious stallion, clearly upset by the arrival of all these pegasi in what he considered his space. But, as soon as her hand touched the black hide, the woman who’d been asking questions was standing in Steve’s space, her hand gripping his jaw to wrench his head to the side.

“You claim this man is your _sjelevenn_ , but he remains unmarked.” Gunborg snorted in disgust.

Before he could react, (Y/N) was back, planting her foot in Gunborg’s stomach, sending the woman stumbling away. _Glemsel_ sang and settled against Gunborg’s throat, high up beneath her ear.

“You dare to touch my _sjelevenn_?” her queen voice rippled on the air, sharp and deadly and full of rage. “You are asking for a beating, Gunborg.”

A man leapt from the back of Gunborg’s pegasus and rushed forward, sword in one hand and axe in the other. “ _Ta sverdet fra halsen!_ ”

Steve had no idea what he’d said, but he wasn’t about to let anyone rush at his girl with drawn weapons. Already in motion, he didn’t notice Bucky flowing with him until his shield and Buck’s fist connected with the guy at the same time. The hit sent him flying through the air, back to the feet of the Pegasus he’d rode in on.

“Brynjar!” Gunborg cried. “You will pay for that!” she hissed, glaring at (Y/N).

“I prove myself your Queen, and you threaten me, Gunborg?” she hissed, digging her blade in harder. “You touch my _sjelevenn_ , yours tries to attack me, and you expect me not to retaliate? You are _sorely_ mistaken if you think my _sjelevenn_ or my guard would ever allow harm to come to me they could prevent.”

“My queen,” Heimdall murmured. “The Prince…” he whispered horror in his words.

Her head snapped around and (Y/N) gasped. “What did you do?”

Steve turned in the direction of the pegasus making his way through the foremost group from the rear. Hunched over his neck, being held up by the arm of the woman behind him, was a grey looking Loki. He’d never seen the God of Mischief look so terrible… ever.

(Y/N) snapped her foot into Gunborg’s knee, forcing her to kneel, and grabbed a handful of hair. She wrenched the woman’s head back and brought her sword to bear beneath Gunborg’s chin. “What did you do!?” she screamed.

“He wouldn’t talk. The temple demanded it,” Gunborg said, a small amount of fear appearing on her face.

“Did you do it?” (Y/N) hissed. “Did you chain him?”

“No… Queen Sváfa.”

“Who?” she snarled.

“The high priestess of the temple.”

“You’d best be telling me the truth, Gunborg, or I swear on my sword I will kill you!” (Y/N) snapped, thrusting her away to stride toward the other watching Valkyries.

Steve studied faces, saw awe and fear and wonder, but also distrust and in some cases anger and hate. On the face of the woman holding Loki, he saw only regret. He didn’t know what _chain him_ meant, but if it made Loki look like _that_ , it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“I am Sváfa, daughter of Tove, reborn Queen of the Valkyrjur. Too long have I been gone from Asgard if you think the chaining of the son of Odin is acceptable! Return to the valley and prepare for my coming! Search your hearts, my sisters. Find your honour, for I swear by sword and saddle, and by the flames of Valhalla, I will show no mercy to those who have lost it!” (Y/N) roared.

Those whose faces had shown awe snapped their heads down and a fist to their hearts in acknowledgment of her commands, but the rest merely nodded begrudgingly.

She turned her attention to Loki and the woman who held him so gently.

“My queen,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I was against this.”

(Y/N) glanced her way, and Steve watched the woman flinch when she became the focus of those ethereal eyes. “What is your name?”

“Eira, your majesty.”

“You do not seem surprised to find me on Midgard,” (Y/N) said softly as she helped Loki slide down past the pegasus’s wing.

When he moved to assist, (Y/N) held up her hand and called out, “Natasha, I could use you, please.”

Steve frowned but didn’t contradict her when Nat hurried closer.

“The Prince… he… held out longer than anyone expected but eventually he… gave you up,” Eira murmured. Her words made Loki flinch.

“Thank you for your assistance, maiden,” his girl said quietly as Natasha moved to support Loki’s other side. “Return to your wing.”

“Yes, my lady.” She bowed her head, her steed repeating the action.

Gunborg had gone to her fallen _sjelevenn’s_ side to assist him to his feet and back onto the back of her pegasus, but when she felt his gaze, she paused to glare eyes full of hatred his direction. Her gaze darted to his throat again, a sneer pulled her lip up, and Steve glanced toward the man riding with her, now holding his ribs, clearly in a good amount of pain before he and Bucky followed (Y/N).

“We shall inform the _Fullmakt_ the God of Mischief spoke truth… for once,” Gunborg said, venom in her words, “And await your return… Queen Sváfa.”

“See you do, Gunborg,” (Y/N) snapped.

The pegasi left as they’d come, in what she’d called wings, to disappear as quickly as they arrived through the tear in the sky.

“How bad, Loki?” (Y/N) asked, rushing with him toward the door, her clear urgency translating to Natasha who frowned and hurried to keep up.

“I’ve… had worse,” he wheezed.

“Hulk no like them,” the big green guy muttered, following along behind.

“Hulk baby. I need Bruce back,” (Y/N) called out as she headed inside. “Heimdall, get Thor. Can you make it to the med wing, Loki?” Concern made her voice shake.

“I would… prefer you simply… get it off!” Loki gasped.

“Okay. Okay, _ugagn_. Nat, let’s get him in a chair.”

“What the hell’s going on, (Y/N)?” Natasha finally asked for all of them.

“They chained him. I can’t believe they chained him,” she snarled.

“I don’t know what that means,” Nat said as she helped lower Loki into a chair.

Loki was panting and sweating by the time they reached it. “Perhaps… I miscalculated having had worse,” he wheezed.

“Someone get Bruce some clothes!” (Y/N) called out. “And anyone who isn’t an immediate part of this team, clear out!”

Sam and Vision were already working to usher people from the room, Wanda darted away to find the now small, and much less green, Bruce some clothing while he stood there holding up his pants.

Tony moved closer and frowned. “You don’t look good, reindeer games,” he murmured.

“Not now, Tony!” his girl snapped and thrust her sword at Bucky to begin pulling carefully at Loki’s tunic.

“Baby, I need you to explain as you go. We don’t know what’s happening.”

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, causing Loki to lift a shaking hand and cup her cheek. “Don’t, _lillesøster_. I do not deserve your tears.”

“ _Ugagn_ ,” she whimpered and pulled his shirt apart.

Those standing closest gasped in horror. Chains of gold had been crisscrossed over his chest causing the skin to blister and burn. There were half-healed marks, evidence the ones left on him were not the first ones used, and Steve felt his stomach roll.

“Jesus Christ!” Bucky hissed, stepping forward only to have (Y/N) turn and slap her palms to his chest.

“Don’t!”

“We have to get those off him!” Bucky barked.

“You can’t!” she cried. “You can’t touch them. They’re chains of the Valkyrjur. Created to bind Gods and Men. If you touch them, you’ll be no better than Loki.”

“What the fuck? Why would you even have those things?” Tony asked.

“They are meant for those we are sent to fight. The fact that they used them against Loki… this was never what they were meant for! We are often tasked with taking down a dark God or incredibly powerful men. Sometimes, the chains are needed to contain them until they can be delivered to the dungeons of Asgard.” She turned back to help Loki slide his shirt off. “Anyone with magic or who’s male can’t touch them, can’t touch him.”

“What do you need me to do?” Natasha asked, now understanding her role.

“Keep a strong stomach. We have to get them off.”

“You mean…?” Nat looked at (Y/N) in disbelief.

“There’s no other way. The chains bind powers, but when left too long this is the result. They are only meant to be left on long enough to get the perp in a cell. Not for days!” she cried.

“Sváfa… _lillesøster_ , this is not your fault,” Loki murmured.

“It is! I should never have sent you to get my things! I should never have asked you to keep this all a secret!”

“I never should have gotten caught! I was careless, too confident in my skills, but that does not excuse the temple for doing this!” he bellowed and cringed in pain with the force of his words.

“Let’s just get them off,” Bruce said, having quickly gotten dressed while everyone’s attention remained focused on Loki. “You can play who’s to blame later.”

“You should… enjoy this,” Loki smirked a wan smile at Natasha.

“Hey,” Nat said softly and reached out to touch Loki’s cheek. “You were tortured to keep (Y/N) safe. That more than anything proves where your loyalties lie. I take no pleasure in this.”

His eyes widened a little, clearly disconcerted by Nat’s easy acceptance. “Just… pull hard and fast.”

“Loki… that will do too much damage,” (Y/N) said.”

“Darling… I have had them peeled off slowly… twice. Just get it over with.”

Static caused the hair on the back of Steve’s neck to rise when the bifröst opened. Thor’s arrival came on a crack of thunder which shook the building.

“Do it! Before he gets here!” Loki barked.

“Lean forward a little,” (Y/N) whispered, and grasped the tail end of one chain while Natasha grasped the other. “Nat, down his back, around his ribs, and we’ll switch as we come up his chest to get it off the back of his neck.” She touched Loki’s chin. “Ready?”

“Just do it.” He took a deep breath.

“On three… one-”

They went on one, perfectly coordinated, tearing the chain from his flesh in one smooth action and right off the back of his neck.

Loki still screamed.

“I’m sorry!” (Y/N) cried dropping the chain to the ground behind his chair and falling to her knees to hold him as Loki gasped for breath and shook from the pain.

“LOKI!” bellowed from Thor who shoved his way through them all to find his brother looking like hell. “Who did this! I will see them slaughtered! They shall be torn limb from limb!”

“Did she lie, Loki? Did Gunborg do this? Did she chain you?” (Y/N) asked softly.

“No… priestess…” he groaned.

“Okay, okay. Let’s let the guy breathe. C’mon, Thor. We’ll take Loki down to the med wing and get him patched up.” Bruce winced when he got a close up look at the wounds left from the chains.

“There is no need,” Loki sighed. “Now that my magic is no longer restricted, I will heal in due time.”

“You’re still getting those wrapped, so they don’t fester, _ugagn_. Don’t make me kick your already beaten ass down the hall.”

“I am wounded, and you still threaten to beat me? How cruel, Sváfa!”

“He already sounds more himself,” Sam snickered.

Steve reached down and drew his girl to her feet, tugging her a few steps away while the others crowded closer to ask questions of Loki. “You want to tell me what that woman, Gunborg, was talking about?”

“When?” she asked, evidently intent on playing dumb.

“When she nearly wrenched my jaw off to glare at my neck!” he snapped, hurt by her lack of trust. “Why do you continue to keep things from me? What do I have to do to prove myself, so you stop hiding this shit?”

She tugged him further from the others when he got a little louder. “Steve, it’s not like that. I swear!” she pleaded when he snorted his thoughts on her denial.

“Then what? What was she looking for?”

She rubbed her hands over her face and sighed. “Most Valkyrie when they are _sjelevenn_ … mark their soulmate. At one time it was meant as a source of pride. The mark was special and meant something. You were _sjelevenn_! Something many aspired to but few if any achieved. Then, it changed. It went from a source of pride to a mark of possession. People like Gunborg used it as a way to control their soulmate, treat him like he was nothing more than a thing to be collected every life. I wasn’t going to ask it of you, ever. It isn’t required, and I won’t do it. You’re my partner, not my possession!”

He blinked at her, stunned before his words were tumbling out without him having to think about them. “What if I want you to?”

“What?” Her head snapped up to stare at him aghast.

“What if I want you to mark me? Just because they treat it like a brand doesn’t mean it means the same for us. I… I kind of like the idea, knowing I’m yours in such a permanent way.”  Now that he thought about it, he remembered seeing the dark blue tattoo on the side of Brynjar’s neck.

“Steve… it’s not something to choose lightly! It’s permanent and solidifies the bonds we’ve begun. There is no walking away from such a connection. It’s like… getting married!” She threw up her hands in exasperation.

Again he froze for a moment to let what she’d said sink in. “So… why don’t we?”

“What!” she yelped, drawing everyone’s attention.

He stepped closer to trace his knuckle down her cheek. “I’m yours, baby. You’re mine. Nothing and no one is ever going to change that. We’re together until the end and after these last few months… life can be really short, doll face. Real short. Why wait?” Slowly, he settled to a knee and took her hand in his, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from their watching friends. “I love you… right to the soul. You’re everything. My heart, my life, my _sjelevenn_. Marry me. Wear my ring and let me wear your mark.”

“Steven…” she whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks. Her free hand cupped his face, her thumb stroked his cheekbone, and she bent to press a tender kiss to his lips.

“Is that a yes, darlin’?” he asked when she lifted her mouth from his.

“Yes.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Language (always)
> 
> Song: You Are In Love by Taylor Swift

## Chapter Twenty Three

* * *

“Did he just…?” Tony murmured, staring at the two of you.

“Yeah, he did,” Bucky smirked.

“And did she just…?” Sam asked.

“Yes, she did!” Wanda squealed. “There will be a wedding!” She clapped her hands and jumped excitedly up and down to Vision’s apparent amusement.

Steve burst from the floor to wrap his arms around you and drag you up into the air where he laughed and spun you in an excited circle. “Yeah, there will!”

Your giggles were high, and many as you wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and laid a smacking kiss to his lips. “I do have one _tiny_ question.”

“What’s that, doll face?” Steve asked, his grin wide enough to split his face in two.

“Where’s my bling, Steven?”

Terror stiffened all his muscles. “Oh… shit…”

“Language!” burst from nearly every mouth in the room.

You burst into laughter. “S’okay, Cap. You kind of sprung this on us both. I’ll give you a pass, for a few days.”

Loki shifted and got slowly to his feet. “You do not have days. Check your right front pocket, Captain.”

Steve put you down with a frown before digging in his pocket. Metal chimed together, and he pulled his hand free to reveal two simple twisted bands, likely of gold. “What?”

“They were the bands exchanged in your first life. Replace them later if you wish, but you have not the time to wait. You must wed him, Sváfa, before you return to Asgard. They challenge your right to rule. Arriving married to your _sjelevenn_ will do much to swing the tide of feelings toward you.”

“Loki?” You frowned his way. “What do you mean?”

“I managed to discover a few things before… my capture. The discontent is high in the Halls of Valhalla. The warriors' riot. The Valkyrie do nothing but fight amongst themselves. Gunborg raises chaos among your sisters, pits them against one another, and the temple says nothing. The priestess, she who chained me, she agrees with Gunborg. It is time you were renounced. The only reason they came to you here is that the one who assisted me, the maiden Eira, bore witness to my… failure and insisted. She is a rather important woman, apparently, though who’s child she is I do not know.”

“ _Ugagn_ ,” you said softly and walked away from Steve to cup Loki’s face tenderly. “You did not fail. You suffered for me, bled for me. It is I who failed. Odin has been calling me home for a month. I should have gone, but… fate is playing with me. I don’t know what comes next, but I do know you are never allowed to think you failed or you betrayed me in this. The time you… you… suffered,” you whispered, voice breaking, “allowed us the chance to finish the _Sjeletyv_ off once and for all.”

He brought his forehead to yours and sighed. “That is not all of it. Heimdall, use your eyes and search the pit.”

You froze, stiffening in surprise. “No.”

Heimdall shifted and looked up, remaining silent for some time. “I am sorry, Loki. It is empty.”

“Fuck!” you burst out but held Loki all the tighter when he flinched.

“I am sorry, _lillesøster_.”

“No, Loki. You are not to blame. They should never have messed with your magic!” you snarled. “You were only trying to help.”

“But I-”

“No!” you bit out harshly and shook your head. “You did what you thought was right. I will not allow you to brood or castigate yourself over this! It is their fault. And I will see they pay for what they have meddled in. Freyja help me, I will see her stripped of her position for this!”

“Uh? Brat? You want to enlighten the rest of us?” Clint asked.

“The pit is empty. Because of the chains binding him, Garry has escaped Loki’s magic.”

“What!?” Bucky bellowed. “That punk ass pansy is now loose on Asgard?”

Loki flinched. “Or he died freeing himself from the pit. Until I can return and check the passageways… his fate will remain uncertain.”

“There ain’t nothing we can do about that,” Steve said into the humming silence seconds later. “But it looks like we need Tony to throw a party. What you say, doll face?” He took your hand and turned you toward him. “You wanna marry me tomorrow?”

Your heart jumped and kicked wildly before slowing to a steady beat as you smirked up at him. “I don’t know, Rogers. You think you can get my bling in order before then?” Loki may have supplied you the bands but just because they didn’t do engagement rings on Asgard didn’t mean you didn’t want one. You were a modern girl in your heart, still, even if you were Queen of the Valkyrjur.

He chuckled but nodded, and you imagined there would be quite a sparkle in his eye if you could see it. “Yeah. Tony, I’m gonna need a jet and a few hours off.”

“I’m coming along,” Bucky smirked. “Someone’s gotta keep you in line, punk.”

“And if he’s going, you’re definitely going to need me along to keep both of them out of trouble,” Sam said, punching Bucky in the shoulder.

“A woman’s touch is what you really need,” Natasha huffed.

“I gotta go get Laura and the kids. She’d kill me if we missed this!” Clint was already digging for his phone.

“You will need a dress,” Wanda murmured. “I will assist.”

A voice called from behind you, “That is taken care of. As is the Captain’s outfit.”

You spun to face the door and gasped. “Odin?” He appeared exactly as you remembered and as you’d seen in your dream but for the modern clothing.  “How did you get here?”

“My son is not the only one who knows the back ways in and out of Asgard.” He held wide his arms and smiled. “Come, daughter of my heart.”

You ran to him and held him tightly as he returned the embrace. “What are you doing here?”

“Think you I would miss this? Or that Frigga would forgive me if I did?” He gave a small smile and set you back from him. “Now, introduce me to your intended. Loki, my son.” Odin held out a flask. “You will need your strength returned.”

Everyone was staring, and you felt the blush crawl across your face at the way they were all gaping. You didn’t have family outside the team in this life, your parents passing long ago, but, suddenly, they were all faced with your surrogate stand-in father who just happened to be Odin the All-father, former King of Asgard.

“Um,” you hummed softly, uncomfortable until Steve smiled gently and stepped forward to hold out his hand.

“Good to meet you, sir,” he said and gripped Odin’s wrist when the elder god accepted.

Heart-stopping relief made your shoulders slump. “Captain Steven-”

“Son of Rogers, yes. I have watched you for many years. An honourable and distinguished Captain. You are a credit to your soul.” Odin handed Loki the flask, who took it and drained it greedily.

You, meanwhile, wanted to slap a hand to your face. “All-father,” you sighed.

“What? Can a god not commend his respect for the one who is _sjelevenn_ to his daughter?” the elder said with a straight face, but you knew him well enough to know he was enjoying your embarrassment.

“Father, stop,” Thor muttered.

“What is that?” Bruce suddenly budded in, pointing at the flask Loki had seemingly chugged without taking a breath.

Already you could smell the magic, the light and fruity nature of the beverage, and the reduction in the sick scent of his wounds. “Think of it like the god’s own fountain of youth. It doesn’t make them any younger, obviously,” you nudged your elbow against Odin’s teasingly, “but it heals and restores grievous wounds.”

“Can I see that?” Bruce asked hopefully.

“It is not meant for mortal men. Nor ones who become giant hulks,” Odin denied, motioning to Loki to be rid of it. “Now, daughter. Once your _sjelevenn_ returns, we will have the ceremony. Thor will oversee the vows. Loki will see to the ceremony. I will see you’re given away.”

“Excuse me!” Tony finally burst. “But who the hell do you think you are giving orders in my facility?”

“Tony,” you warned only to be ignored.

“What? He just came in and took over,” Tony huffed.

“I am Odin, once King of Asgard, and could level this building with one strike.” Gungnir appeared in his hand, and he set the butt of it down gently. Still, the quake rolled through the building and shook everything. 

“Oh, for Valhalla’s sake!” you barked and wrenched the staff from his hand. “Just stop it! This is not Asgard, and you are not ruler here no matter how you try to intimidate people.”

His face fell. “But Sváfa…”

“Don't _but Sváfa_ me! If you have a reason for rushing the plan we have set in place for tomorrow, then speak it. Otherwise, All-father, I would thank you to let me make the decisions about my wedding!”

“Our,” Steve reminded you gently.

“Our wedding!” you agreed with a nod.

Odin drew himself up to his full height, an action which would have been far more intimidating had he not been dressed like everyone else’s grandfather in a cardigan and pleated front pants. “The oracles speak promising of tonight, not tomorrow. The Norns know what must be done.  For an auspicious outcome, it must be tonight!”

“Superstitious nonsense,” Tony grumbled.

“No, Stark. It is not,” Thor stated. “These are things, traditions, passed down through generations. Like the rings the Captain holds. There are reasons for everything, every action, every step we take when we hold a ceremony. All is to honour our heritage and the fates.”

“Hence the reason father offered the outfits, though I think he means me to provide them,” Loki huffed and waved his hand, returning his attire to its usual immaculate state, his wounds healed and magic now restored.

“I would really like to know what was in that stuff,” Bruce muttered, eyeing Loki.

Odin only continued to stare at you. “It is tonight or not for many weeks, daughter of my heart.”

You sighed and scrubbed a hand down your face. “Steve?”

His arms went around your waist, and he drew your back to his chest where he dropped his head and murmured against your ear, “Tonight, tomorrow, either is fine by me. Just so long as we get married.”

It was little surprise you melted, kind of instantly, into his wide chest. “You sure?” He nodded. “Then I guess Tony’s going to be busy. You think you can pull it off, old man?”

He scoffed. “Are my suits bulletproof?”

“Someone better contact the others. T’Challa will skin you if you don’t tell him, Cap,” Bucky chuckled.

“New mission, Get Cap Married, is a go!” Sam barked.

“Hey!” you whined.

Sam waved at the other half of the team. “You’re their mission! I’m team Cap all the way!”

You snickered, finding the whole moment immensely funny, and turned to face Steve. “You ready for this?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I was born ready,” he chuckled and sealed his mouth to yours while the others catcalled and whistled.

“C’mon, punk ass little shit!” Bucky cheered, snagging Steve by the collar. “We just cut the mission timeframe in half. You can suck face later.”

“You’re just jealous, Barnes!” you called as they dragged your _sjelevenn_ away.

“It has been some time since I walked the earth of Midgard, yet…” Odin watched them rag on Steve as Team Cap hustled him out the door. “The important things remain the same.”

You linked your arm through his and sighed happily. “You’ve got that right.”

***

Thor had, somehow, managed to convince Odin to return to Asgard with Heimdall and himself until later that evening to your relief. You adored him, but Odin was opinionated and could be an incredible pain in the ass at times when he had nothing better to do but meddle.

Loki and Tony had gone over and above getting everything together, actively working as a team - surprisingly - to see everything made ready.

You’d kept your nose out of it. Loki knew the past you well enough to know which parts of tradition you would want to see included, which parts you felt didn’t matter, and which parts you abhorred. There would be no sacrificing of a goat no matter how Odin pouted. And Tony knew the current you. The girl who liked to dance and party and would want to celebrate with great food, fabulous drinks, and all your friends.

Wanda had been thoroughly put out she couldn’t assist with your dress and had taken it upon herself to see your hair done up. You didn’t have the heart to tell her traditionally it should be left down and unbound, but she was the Scarlet Witch, after all. When she began to work softly scented oils through the length with a brush, you knew she’d caught the thought, even if she wasn’t peeking.

She painted your nails, babbling the whole time, giggling and excited in a way you’d never seen before. She was unbelievably adorable, and once your nails dried, you reached out and pulled her into a tight hug. “We don’t really have attendants, all the witnesses are important, but I’d be proud to have you and Natasha stand with us while we exchange our vows. I’m sure Steve will want Bucky and Sam, and Odin and Loki will flank Thor.”

“Is Thor really going to marry you? Is that even legal on Earth?” she asked curiously.

You shrugged. “If it has to be done again, so be it, but for now it will satisfy the temple. Having Thor preside over the nuptials is a very big deal. He’s the God of Fertility after all.”

“What!?” she barked and then burst out laughing. “Really?”

“Really.” You tried hard not to giggle. “Back in the day when people used to worship them as Midgardian Gods, Thor was often invited to weddings. A Mjolnir look-alike would be placed in the lap of the bride in hopes of encouraging a child to be born from the union.”

She gave a sharp snort. “Thor’s hammer!”

“I am aware of the double entendre, but I assure you, no one was actually asking to have Thor impregnate their wife.”

“Well, there was that one man,” Loki murmured appearing from thin air to settle on the arm of your sofa.

“Don’t even start with that story!” you huffed.

“I would very much like to hear it,” Wanda said, smiling at Loki.

“Then we shall have a drink, and I will tell it, little witch, when the ears of the Valkyrie Queen are otherwise occupied.”

You rolled your eyes and poked Loki in the ribs. “You'd best not let Thor catch you telling that tale.”

“He doesn't concern me,” Loki muttered before leaning over to smell your hair. “Very nice.”

“Wanda did good,” you smiled.

“Wanda needs to find a dress,” she giggled and popped up from her seat to dash out the door.

“She has far too much energy,” Loki said, but amusement laced his voice.

“Like you don’t?” you teased, knowing damn well he’d be hopped up on the stuff Odin had brought him.

“I am not so far gone I cannot contain myself,” he huffed and sat on the sofa with you. “Did you bathe?”

“Loki.” You only glared at him.

“Well, if you wish to turn your nose up at tradition,” he grumbled.

“The washing away of my symbolic virginity is a touch redundant, don’t ya think? It’s not like I have a kransen anymore.”

The kransen was a maid’s gilt circlet, a symbol of their virginity, which was replaced by a bridal crown during the ceremony and stored away for the woman’s future daughter to wear.

He reached out and cupped your cheek. “(Y/N)...”

“Don’t, Loki.”

“I’m sorry, darling.”

Your eyes watered when you leaned into his touch. “It’s not like I’m not used to it. I seem cursed to be lacking that one essential part of getting married.” In all the years you could remember, all the lives you’d lived, and all the times you’d wed your _sjelevenn_ , not once had your mother been alive to help see you through your preparations.

“ _Lillesøster_.”

You shifted over to sit beside him and cuddle into his chest. His arms wrapped around you, and you sighed when he dragged you closer and set his chin on the top of your head. His heart beat strongly beneath her ear, and his body was warm and comforting.

“Father bid me give you this.” He turned his hand over and set the item on his lap.

You smiled. “He’s a big softy when he wants to be.”

“He has a soft spot for you. Mostly, I think, because you keep me out of trouble.”

“When we weren’t getting into it together,” you chuckled, lightly touching the bridal crown sitting on his knee.  

“It was mother’s.”

“I figured as much.” Odin wouldn’t just offer any old bridal crown. “Silver?”

“Of course.” He almost sounded offended. “The stones were mined in the Valley of the Veil on Álfheim and will glow with the light of the moon. Only the finest would do for mother on her wedding day.”

“I remember her talking about it. About the bridal boat and the precessional into the city. I bet she was beautiful.” You could only imagine the glory of it.

He sighed heavily and held you a little tighter. “Thor once said Father remarked that at her passing and return to the stars she looked just a beautiful. Pity I should miss both.”

“You know Thor would show you the memory if you asked him.”

“It would come with his emotions at the moment as well. I do not need to feel how badly he hated me. He made it quite clear he loathed me when we went after Malekith.”

“He was angry and hurt. You know he doesn’t feel that way anymore. Fuck, he was ready to throw down when he showed up today and found out what had been done to you. Something I will be dealing with swiftly once I return to Asgard.”

“Do not do anything which would jeopardize your throne, Sváfa. Not for me.”

You elbowed him gently in the ribs. “Stop it.”

“I am doing nothing.”

“You are a big pouty brat. Oh, my god, Loki! They tortured you! Do you think I don’t know exactly how painful those chains are? That I don’t know exactly how much pain you went through to keep me a secret? Odin’s beard! I wish you’d just told them, so you hadn’t gone through that! I hate that you suffered for me,” you finished softy.

“(Y/N)...” he sighed. “I will admit, the Valkyrie have much more effective ways of making a man talk than some people.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Nothing, it’s not important,” he evaded swiftly. “Everything is ready for your _sjelevenn’s_ return. I will see you dressed once he gives you this _bling_ you so desired.”

“Every girl needs a little bling, Loki.” You chuckled softly when he snorted and returned your head to his chest, happy to have him back.

***

“Punk, chill out,” Bucky muttered, patting his shoulder. “You’ll find it.”

“Ease for you to say.” Steve was minutes away from pulling out his hair.

Tony had hooked them up with five jewellers, stores known for their discretion and for having the best quality gems. But, no matter how extensive the selection, Steve just couldn’t find it. None of them had a ring that screamed her name, nor did justice to her being the Valkyrie Queen, and he was stressing the fuck out.

“Hey, you’ll find it. We’ve got two more places to stop,” Sam assured him.

Natasha said nothing, her gaze caught by a shop window they’d just passed.

“Nat?” Steve called and tugged his hat down a little farther when a few pairs of eyes turned their way. So far, they’d made it through the hustle and bustle of New York without drawing attention to themselves, but it was pretty hard to disguise both himself and Bucky. They weren’t exactly small by any imagination and hats, and glasses only did so much. Sam fit in a little better, and Natasha could disappear at will, but the two of them stuck out like sore thumbs.

“Come look at these.” She waved to them.

Steve hurried over to peer into the window of the tiny shop which appeared wedged in between a bakery and a store that sold lighting of all varieties. But his attention had been firmly caught by the rings in the window.

A low whistle from Bucky and a _whoa_ from Sam clinched it for him, and he was pushing in the door between one breath and the next. “Hello?”

A rather harried looking woman peeked around the corner of what had to be the back room of her tiny store and waved a hand. “Be right with you. Take a look around…” Her voice trailed off as the four of them piled through the door. “Uh…” She frowned, appearing suddenly uncomfortable. “Look, all I have is the jewelry on hand, so if you’re looking to hit a place that will make you a quick buck, this ain’t it.”

Bucky snickered, but it was Natasha who took the lead when she slapped her hand to Steve’s abs. “Not here to rob you. This one’s looking for a ring for his girl.”

“Oh.” She relaxed and smiled. “Setting a stone. Give me three minutes, and I’ll be available to help out.” With a wink, she dove back behind the curtain.

Steve exchanged a glance with Bucky and Sam, both having assessed her situation no different than Steve had. There were cameras, roll down windows covers, and healthy locks on the door. Evidently, that wasn’t such a deterrent if she thought they’d come in to clean her out.

Sure they weren’t in the best neighbourhood, but she shouldn’t have been worried about being robbed in broad daylight. Frowning about it, Steve turned his attention to the rows of glassed-in cases and slipped his dark glasses off his face to tuck in the front of his shirt.

There were necklaces, bracelets, brooches, and rings, each unique and distinct from the one next to it. Some, clearly, had once been something else. There was a cameo brooch similar to one his mother had once worn which had been turned into the centrepiece of an ornate collar necklace. Curls of silver like the strands of a spider’s web swept out and would cover a good portion of the wearer’s chest.

It truly was stunning, but he turned away to have a look at what he was actually shopping for. A case on the other side of the room drew his eye, and he made his way over too it to peer down at the exquisite designs.

“Alright. Sorry about that,” the woman chirped as she made her way out of the back of the store. She appeared very bohemian in her long tunic style coat with its hem of braided fringe over jeans and a simple white tank top. She held out a hand full of rings Steve accepted and shook. “What can I help you with, Mr..?”

“Rogers.” Steve pulled off his hat, ran his hand through his hair, and tucked the brim in his back pocket.

Her eyes widened in recognition before darting to the others. “Holy… holy shit.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Natasha chuckled, plopping herself down in a nearby chair.

“How you doing, doll face?” Bucky smirked, following Steve’s lead with his hat.

“Ma’am.” Sam gave her a nod.

“Okay.” She thrust a hand through her hair, the mass of which chimed with small beads and was threaded with skinny feathers. “Wow. The Avengers are in my shop to buy Captain America’s girl a ring.” Her eyes widened a little further. “Holy crap on a cracker! You’re dating? You’re getting married?” She held up her hands and shook her head. “No! Scratch that! That was super unprofessional and really, really rude. I don’t need to know.”

Steve chuckled. “She’d like you. (Y/N) tends to let her mouth run away with her too.”

She blushed but smiled. “Let’s try this again. I’m Angelica, and this is my store. How can I help you today, Captain?”

“Steve, please. And yeah, I need an engagement ring for my girl.”

Her smile brightened. “You’re so sure she’ll say yes?” she teased and began pulling trays out of the display case after unlocking it with a set of keys from her pocket.

“She already did,” Bucky snickered, wandering up beside him. “Dumbass did things backward.”

“Well, why spend the money when you’re not sure she’ll say yes?” Angelica laughed. “Can you tell me a little about her so I can help narrow down the selection?”

“She’s…” Steve paused, unable to find the words for a moment, “everything.”

Angelica’s smile softened though she shook her head. “Sweet, but not at all helpful.”

Bucky snorted out a laugh the others echoed, making Steve blush. “She’s a modern girl with a penchant for the past. Likes to sing, dance, and kick my ass. She’s outspoken and has such a mouth on her.” He chuckled thinking about all the times she’d used it on him in both anger and passion. “Hot-headed at times and at others she’s so collected. She so fucking smart,” he muttered, staring at the assortment of rings. “And so god damned brave. She’s beautiful, elegant, refined. Swings a sword like a badass, rides an enormous horse, wears feathers and metal in her hair. She’s my soulmate and my queen.”

Tears had formed in Angelica’s eyes by the time he’d finished. “Wow. You really love her a lot.”

“She’s everything,” he said softly and dug in his pocket. “These are our bands.” He let the braided gold slide onto the counter. “They’re important, and I’d like her ring to work with them.” Too many of the other places had turned their noses up at the antique and rather rough looking rings.

She reached for them, hesitating before touching them, looking up for permission first before picking them up. “These are old. Ancient really. The gold is exquisite as is the craftsmanship. They look… Scandinavian in origin? Like something the Vikings would have used.”

“Something like that,” Sam chuckled.

“You know…” Angelica peered down at everything laid out before her and frowned. “I’d love to make something custom, within your budget of course.”

“Doll, he ain’t got no budget,” Bucky chuckled.

“Great, Barnes. Give away the punchline! Now our lovely jeweller will gouge and screw him,” Sam huffed.

“I assure you, Mr. Wilson. I only gouge and screw upon request,” she quipped and eyed him slyly.

“Oh, yeah. (Y/N) would love her!” Nat laughed, poking a sheepish looking Sam in the ribs.

“That would be great, but we don’t have time.” Steve smiled sadly. “I need it for tonight.”

“Tonight!” she barked clearly surprised.

“Something to do with oracles and Norms, and auspicious tidings.” Bucky shrugged.

“He means Norns,” Steve corrected. “Her family is rather… superstitious.”

“The best ones are.” Angelica held out the rings and held up her other hand. “Just wait… I may have something in the back.”

He took the bands back and watched her dart away before punching Bucky in the arm. “This stuff’s important to her. Don’t go getting all cynical and shit because we were raised differently.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Bucky muttered and crossed his arms. “Still, hard to fathom you’re gonna marry the Queen of the Valkyries or that we’re heading to Asgard after this. She did call me her guard, after all.”  He gave a smug grin.

“Queen? An actual Queen? You weren’t being facetious about that?” Angelica gasped, her eyes wide in shock.

“Uh…” Steve punched Bucky in the arm. “Shit, yeah. She’s an actual queen. From Asgard.”

“Holy crap,” the woman wheezed.

“Look, doll,” Bucky murmured as Natasha slowly uncurled from her chair, “We’d really appreciate it if you kept our visit today under your hat.”

“Yeah, of course.” She nodded. “It would be really unprofessional to expose my client list, though… if you do like this, it would be great if you could tell people where you got it from. Help a girl out and all that.” She smiled winningly and held out a blue velvet box.

“You really get trouble here?” Steve asked, plucking the box from her fingers but not bothering to open it.

She smirked and shook her head. “Not usually. You two just walked in looking all sketchy.”

Natasha snorted her amusement and crowded in at his elbow. “Open the box, Cap.”

Sam crowded into her spine as the three of them waited for him to pop the top on the ring box. Nerves twisted in his stomach because if it wasn’t here, he truly felt like he wasn’t going to find it anywhere. The shop was too perfect. The rings too close. If this wasn’t it… he didn’t know what he would do.

Taking a deep breath, Steve lifted the lid.

“I’ll take it.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: swearing (the author has a potty mouth, this should be well established by now)
> 
> Song: I Don’t Dance by Lee Brice

## Chapter Twenty Four

* * *

Bucky’s hand connected with the back of Steve’s head hard enough to rock him forward in the seat, nearly making him drop the ring box. “For god sake, Stevie! If you don’t stop second-guessing yourself, I’m going to kick your ass, and you can walk down the aisle with a black eye!”

“Give the guy a break,” Sam muttered from his place at the front of the jet where he was piloting. “You only get one chance to pick a ring. He just wants to get it right. Guy’s allowed to be nervous. After all, if he screws it up, she could always take her yes back.” Sam grinned wickedly over his shoulder

“Bite me, Wilson,” Steve snorted.

“It is right!” Bucky huffed. “It’s perfect! She’s gonna love it. She’s gonna love it so much she’ll probably cry.”

“You do remember she’s technically blind no matter how well she navigates. She’ll get a gist, but she’s not going to actually know what it looks like,” Nat muttered, staring at her phone.

Steve flinched. Maybe he should have taken that thought into account before he bought it, but it was too perfect. The instant the lid had popped up, he’d just known it was for (Y/N). Then, Angelica had asked to see their bands again, and the two rings had fit together as if the same person designed them.

In the same way, he just knew things about their past; he knew this was her ring. Still, he was so damn nervous he almost wanted to throw up. She was everything, and if she didn’t like it, he’d be devastated.

“Need something to take your mind of things, Cap?” Natasha asked.

Steve looked up, but finding her Widow’s smile staring back only made his stomach roll for a new reason. “Not sure I want to know whatever it is you’re about to tell me.”

Her grin became even more devious. “Just doing a little research. Not sure how close Asgardian customs parallel those of the Vikings, but I figured as they used to worship them as Gods, they had to pick these things up somewhere.”

Bucky launched himself across the jet to see Nat’s phone. “If he doesn’t want to know, I sure as hell do!”

Natasha laughed, and it was evil. “Well, there is the animal sacrifice.”

Steve’s face twisted. “That’s not happening.”

She only continued to grin as she scrolled down. “Apparently, you have to wash away your bachelorhood with a ceremonial bath.”

That didn’t sound so bad, so Steve shrugged a shoulder.

“After robbing an ancestral grave.” Bucky grinned.

“Huh?” Steve frowned.

“Are you two telling tales?” The three of them jumped when Loki materialized out of thin air beside Steve. “Now, now. You can’t spoil all my fun.”

The Asgardian’s hand landed on Steve’s shoulder, and he was falling, his body spinning through space as Loki’s magic overwhelmed him.

Bucky leapt from the bench and caught the ring box before it, too, fell through the floor of the quinjet. “Son of a bitch! What the hell, Loki? What are you doing?”

Loki only smiled widely and disappeared.

***

You had dozed off against Loki, a not uncommon feat in the past. He was calm with you, relaxed and more than willing to sit and stroke your hair while you listened to the steady beat of his heart, or in this case, the quiet monotone as he read aloud.

What he was reading you had no idea. It was in another language, and while you could, possibly, make your brain work enough to translate, you didn’t want to. It was nice just to be back at his side, no matter what anyone thought.

So, when the quinjet landed, you were mid-nap, the building noise nothing but a hum of background ambiance you’d learned to tune out thanks to Matt. With what Steve had left to get, you knew he’d find you when he returned.

Therefore you were aware of the angry stomping on one level, the swift staccato beat of quickly approaching boots, but you paid it no mind. Right up until the door flew open and nearly off its hinges thanks to said boot connecting with it.

“Christ, Barnes!” you bellowed, lurching upright to clutch at your chest. “Are you trying to kill the bride? Because you damn near succeeded.”

He ignored you in favour of stalking over to the sofa where he grabbed Loki by the lapels of his coat and wrenched him over the back of the couch.

“Where. Is. He?” Bucky hissed, low and deadly.

You froze, aware suddenly, you were no longer dealing with Bucky but with Winter and the soldier was pissed.

“I do not know who you are talking about, Sergeant,” Loki said, frowning but he remained passive for the moment.

“Liar! You’re the one who took him! Where? Why? Is this some sick, twisted game? They’re supposed to be getting married in four hours! What the fuck were you thinking?”

Bucky’s furious words registered and you inhaled sharply. “Bucky… where’s Steve?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out!” he shouted and shook Loki again. “Tell me what you did?”

“I haven’t a clue what you are talking about!” Loki snarled and jerked out of Bucky’s grasp. “I have been here the entire time, either assisting Stark or with (Y/N). I haven’t seen the Captain since you left.”

“That’s not possible,” Natasha muttered, striding in the door. “We both watched you appear out of nowhere in the back of the jet, do a little voodoo, and Steve fell out the floor, then disappeared!”

Fear made your heart squeeze tightly in your chest. “It wasn’t him. Loki’s been with me for the last few hours.”

“Then he’s played a double trick!” Bucky snapped. “Where the hell is Steve?”

You got shakily to your feet and grasped the arm of the couch. “No, he didn’t. Loki’s illusions don’t work on me. Neither did Garry’s once I’d got my Valkyrie abilities back. Loki has been here, with me, this whole time.”

“Darling,” Loki murmured, rushing to your side. “It is alright. I will find him. I will figure this out.” He closed his arms around you and tugged you in for a tight hug.

A nod was all you could manage as your throat closed on tears of terror and you clung to him.

“Widow,” he snapped at Natasha once he let you go. “You will tell me everything, and I must see the footage from the jet.” For once, Natasha didn’t say anything snide, just turned and jogged away, Loki hot on her heels.

“Bucky…” you whispered hoarsely as your knees gave out. “What happened?”

He caught you before you could hit the floor and sat the two of you on the couch. “I don’t know. Jesus. I don’t know. He was freaking out, worried you wouldn’t like your ring; then Nat got to teasing him about Viking wedding traditions. Suddenly Loki was there, going on about how we were going to ruin his fun… and then Steve just… poofed.”

You closed your hands in Bucky’s shirt and held on like your life depended on it.

“Breathe, damn it! You hyperventilating isn’t going to do anyone any good!” He shook your shoulders rather frantically. “And if Steve can still feel you, he’s gonna panic!”

A gasp filled your lungs, and you held it before blowing it out and forcing your heart rate to slow. “Bucky,” you whimpered instead. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know, doll face. I’m real fucking sorry. Shit.” He dragged you into a bone-crushing hug. “Don’t freak out. Whoever they were didn’t seem to mean him any harm.”

“You hope.”

“They smiled when they left if that helps.”

“Not really,” you breathed out a shaky sob.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Tony burst through the door, pausing to glare at what you imagined was a rather large boot print or hole in the drooping wood.

“Someone took Steve,” Bucky said.

“What?” Tony stiffened all over. “No wonder reindeer games is in a flap.”

“They pretended to be Loki,” you whispered. “He’s going to be madder than you’ve ever seen. He hates being impersonated.”

“It had to be another Asgardian, right? There aren’t any Inhumans with those kinds of combined powers that I know of. Not someone who can use magic and teleport and change their appearance,” Tony murmured as he took a seat on the coffee table and held your hand. “But how? We’ve had no activity other than Odin’s arrival. Strange would have shown up if an unknown Asgardian just… arrived.”

“Unless they were already here,” you said, lifting your head from Bucky’s shoulder. “If they were already on Earth before Strange started monitoring the comings and goings…”

“He wouldn’t know who to look for!” Tony jumped up and ran out of the room yelling, “I gotta make a call!”

“You gonna be okay, majesty?” Bucky asked.

His attempt at humour didn’t go unnoticed, and you smiled a quirk of lips. “Soon as I get him back. I am going to kick someone’s ass for pulling this stunt. Seriously! Don’t they know you don’t mess with the bride on the wedding day?”

Bucky gave a chuckle. “Well, I guess I can give you this. Steve had asked me to do it later, but I think later we’re going to be busy.”

As he moved to dig in his pocket, you frowned. “If it’s the ring, I don’t think you should be giving it to me.”

“Of course it ain’t,” he huffed. “Jeez, what kinda guy you take me for?”

“Hey, I was just checking,” you muttered and wiped at your face. The initial terror had worn off, allowing you to settle into determination to figure out who’d taken your _sjelevenn_ and why, as well as plan how you were going to murder them once you got Steve back.

“We may not know about Asgard traditions, but Steve wasn’t about to let some of our own go. This is your bridal gift.” Bucky grinned as he pulled the narrow box from his pocket. “Don’t think it would hurt none to give you this now.”

You took it from him, the velvet soft against your fingers. A weight within shifted, and you could smell the precious metal once you got the lid open. Gently, you traced your fingers down the interior, noting the thin chain and circular pendant. There was a design engraved on the front, with small stones embedded in it, and a tiny clasp on the side. “Oh! It’s a locket! I’ve always wanted one, but jewelry has never been high on my list of priorities.”

“Doll,” he said, and his voice was soft. “We had a day finding your ring. I let Steve tell it, but… there was this shop, tiny thing Nat found, and the woman made such… unreal things. Took all these vintage things and made them something new. There was this big as fuck choker necklace with a cameo in it so similar to what Steve’s ma had it took my breath away, but it was while Angelica was making sure your ring would fit, Steve found that. It was kind of behind and underneath another necklace, but shit, you shoulda seen him. The man dropped like a rock right to his knees and stared at it like it was the holy grail.”

“Why?” you asked, taking the locket from inside the box to hold it in your palm.

“Because his pops gave his ma one exactly like that for her birthday right before he passed. Steve was just a little, little guy, but he said he remembered how her eyes lit up when he gave it to her. Then, shortly after his dad’s passing, she sold it cause they needed the money. He said it was the one thing she cried over having to get rid of.”

“Oh.” You held the precious piece of Steve’s history in your hand. Sure it might not be that necklace, but it could be. “It’s even more beautiful.”

“He wasn’t sure if you wore jewelry for these things or not, and said it was okay if you wanted to keep it for another time, but I know he’d love to see it on you, doll face.”

“I can wear it.” An idea lit up in your brain, and you smiled. “Maybe you can help me, Buck. It will keep my mind off… things until Loki figures out who’s behind this.” There was nothing you could do at the moment, and no use in fretting. Working to take your mind off Steve’s absence, continuing to plan as if he would be back at any moment, was the only way for you to keep moving forward.

“Sure, (Y/N). Anything.” He nodded, apparently eager to help in some way after basically losing the groom.

“Grab my tablet. I need you to help me find something.”

“What’s that?” he asked, picking up the one which would have the red cover.

You only smiled. “You’ll see.”

***

When Steve woke, it was less of an awakening and more of a coming too after having indulged in Thor’s liquor. So, when he found himself face down on some moss covered rock it only surprised him a little what with the pounding happening in his skull. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d woken up outside after someone had slipped the Asgardian’s hooch in his glass and not remember how he’d gotten there.

This time, though, when he pushed himself off the ground, it all came back with blinding clarity, and he ground his teeth together. “Loki, you son of a bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Ooh, Captain. Such language.” High and girly, the voice which giggled was indeed not Loki’s.

He looked up to find a woman seated on another stone, a black horn cup wrapped in silver held in her hand. A tumbling mass of golden hair fell around her, over the clock of red and black feathers. Her eyes were a crystal blue which seemed to change colour like the waves of the ocean. She smiled teeth of pearly white before draining the horn of whatever it contained and snuffing it out in a glimmer of golden magic. With a little heave, she jumped down from her perch, hair and feathers flying, only to reveal the white on white leather of a Valkyrie.

Steve got cautiously to his feet, took a swift look around at the trees, rocks, moss, and fog, and returned his attention to the woman with her hands planted on her hips. “If this is because I’m (Y/N)’s _sjelevenn_ , you should know, trying to hurt me is gonna go real, real bad for you.”

She chuckled but shook her head. “No, Captain. I’m here to help not harm you.”

He didn’t believe her for an instant. “Why?”

“Because, dear boy. Your _sjelevenn_ is very important. She’s my favourite after all. I don’t want to see her fail and I have chosen to… stack the deck, as you Midgardian’s say, in her favour.

A frown furrowed Steve’s brow. “Who are you?” he asked, wondering why she looked vaguely familiar.

“I have many names, Steven, son of Rogers, but you can call me Mardöll.” She said it with a twirl of her hand and a courtly bow, causing her cloak to fall around her.

“Well, ma’am. You want to explain why I’m here, and where the heck here is?”

Another chuckle escaped her. “Such manners now. It is nice to know you are still as polite as always.” She turned away only to glance back over her shoulder. “Come along, Steven, son of Rogers.” In a flash of gold, a falcon took her place and flew off into the forest.

“Wait!” he called, but she ignored him, and he clenched his teeth together as he jogged down the barely discernible dirt track after her feathered behind, deciding if he wanted answers, he’d best play along for the time being.

The fog billowed and swirled, dancing in spirals away from his footfalls. It hung among the trees, tall, stately pines with peeling bark and needle dripping branches. The scent of wood and stone, earth, and crisp, clean air filled his nose with each inhale. It had been a very long time since he’d smelled something so fresh. There wasn’t even a hint of pollution to sour the air, and he wondered where the hell he was.

But the woman, Mardöll, now a falcon, flew on between the tall trees.

Everything had an eerie, muted cast to it. The bits of sky he could see were grey, the fog was white, and only the trees held colour in greens and browns against the dark slate grey of the ground.

Though he couldn’t feel it yet, Steve was thankful for the jacket he’d thrown on. It was colder here than it had been at home, almost as if there was snow coming or freshly fallen nearby. Again he wondered just where the hell they were.

Still, he pressed on after the bird - a thought which made him shake his head in disbelief as it wasn’t something he’d ever imagined happening - keeping to a steady rhythm which maintained his proximity to her while allowing him time to check his steps. It wasn’t the first time he’d raced over uneven ground in a densely treed forest, and he doubted it would be the last, but as Steve knew nothing about what was going on, he moved with caution. When the break in the trees appeared, he slowed and moved with even more care.

The woman was back when he stepped beyond the trees, perched on a tumbled pile of boulders with two slabs creating a peaked doorway and a dark cave beyond. The thought of more caves, great, passed swiftly when the woman, Mardöll, jumped down.

“In you go.” She waved toward the entrance.

“Gonna have to pass, ma’am.”

“Excuse me?” She stared at him in surprise.

Steve only widened his stance and crossed his arm. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where I am, what the hell this is, and why I’m supposed to get in another hole after only getting out of one yesterday.”

She huffed in aggravation. “This used to be easier. Men loved me. Tell a fool to jump, and he’d leap off a cliff.”

“I’m no fool, and there’s only one woman I love. You ain’t her,” Steve murmured.

A smile softened her scowl with his declaration. “Sweet, but not at all helpful.” She walked toward him, all swaying hips and ocean eyes. “You want me to tell you where you are, but you already know, don’t you… Helgi.”

Steve only blinked at her. “Would I ask if I knew?”

She pouted and reached up to play with the necklace around her throat. It looked like stars, shining and shimmering like a constellation. “Look around, then tell me you don’t know.”

He nearly growled but lifted his head to glare at forest and trees, the clearing they were in, and finally at the burial mound behind her. He stiffened. “That’s a burial mound.”

“Indeed it is.”

“How… how do I…” He took another look at the forest. “Wait…”

“Yes?” she snickered.

“I know this place.”

“You should,” she laughed. “You grew up here. Welcome home, Helgi.”

Steve sat down hard on a rock when the fog rolled away to reveal a valley beyond the edge of the once hidden cliff and the castle which stood on an outcropping of stone on the other side.

“Asgard… this is Asgard,” he whispered in awe. “How?”

“That tricky nephew of mine isn’t the only magic wielder in the family. I have my ways.”

He looked up at her standing beside him. “Who are you really?”

A much sadder smile stretched her lips. “Nobody of importance. Only a woman searching for her own _sjelevenn_.” She fingered the necklace again, specifically the gem that sat at its epicentre and had a tear as red as blood but glittering like gold spill down her cheek.

He couldn’t help but hurt for her, remembering what it had felt like to lose (Y/N). “You can’t find him? Or did someone take him? We may be able to help if you were looking for him on Earth.”

Her sadness seemed to dim when her smile sweetened. “Sváfa is lucky to have such a compassionate _sjelevenn_. But you cannot help. It is my fault he left me. A mistake made that cost me his love. I will search heaven and earth, and all the nine realms, and keep searching until I find him again or he finds a way to forgive me and comes home.”

He wondered what could be so terrible it would break apart a _sjelevenn_ bond but didn’t ask. “So… why am I here?” Steve inquired, finally beginning to believe she didn’t mean him any harm.

“For the sword, of course. You must enter the burial tomb, retrieve the sword of your ancestor, and present it to your beloved as part of the wedding. This is a scared binding, and though some think it foolish, it must be done. No one must challenge the validity of your marriage to the Queen. The important steps must be taken.” She turned and pointed toward the tomb. “Go, but beware what ghosts lie yonder. Keep your wits about you and remember. You are Helgi reborn. Your blood and birthright lie within. None may stop you lest you let them.

“Yeah, that didn’t sound ominous at all,” Steve muttered as she turned back into a falcon and flew up into a tree.

He took a deep breath and got to his feet. All these Asgardian things were beginning to irk him. Nothing could ever just be simply done with them. It was all pomp and circumstance.

If it were up to him, he would have asked (Y/N) to marry him in a small ceremony in the church in Brooklyn where he’d been baptized. There, he could have watched her walk toward him in a dress of her choosing with flowers and a veil he would have been able to lift to kiss the bride. They would have celebrated small, under the stars with their family and friends, and snuck away before the night ended, driving somewhere private where he could spend a week doing nothing but exploring the satin softness of her skin.

But she wasn’t just (Y/N), the spitfire girl he’d fallen in love with anymore. She was Sváfa, Queen of the Valkyrjur, a title which came with a heavy burden and responsibilities no different than his own Captain America title did. He wasn’t about to add to that burden by not doing something which could make it easier, even if he thought it was foolish.

After all, how hard could it be to go down in a tomb and get back a rusty sword from a bunch of dead people?


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, fighting
> 
> Song: Certain Things by James Arthur, Chasing Grace

## Chapter Twenty Five

* * *

“Oh, Steven. One minute,” Mardöll spoke, materializing beside him. “You are going to need this.”

A puff of gold magic hit him in the face making Steve snort, “The hell was that?” while rubbing his nose to stave off the desire to sneeze.

She spoke to him in a spate of words, the kind his girl lobed at him to drive him wild, until slowly the words gradually morphed into ones he could understand. “Ah, there it has taken effect. Good. You will understand now. Anything you read, anything you hear, now it will not be foreign to you.”

Before he could ask if it would be permanent because he liked listening to (Y/N) murmur dirty things to him in a language he didn’t fully understand, Mardöll was gone back to the trees in her feathered skin. Huffing out a sigh of exasperation, Steve stepped up to the opening. It appeared one of the side supports for the lintel stone had eroded away causing the thing to collapse down into a tight ‘v’ shaped doorway.

It gave him pause for if this was the tomb of the family of Sváfaland, the once kings and queens, why wasn’t it better-taken care of? He glanced again at the castle across the valley and up at the woman who’d led him here, but she remained stoic, watching him with unblinking eyes.

“This is so not how I imagined my wedding day going,” he muttered as he ducked beneath the stone and squeezed through the entrance, trying not to scrape his chest on the rock. The cave opened up on the other side, but he still had to hunch slightly to keep from smacking his head on the ceiling. Cobwebs coated everything, and for the first time in his entire life, Steve wished he was shorter.

Still, he had a job to do, one he had very little information on and took a hard look around. A tunnel led deeper into the earth, and he sighed. “Of course it does. Can’t just have the sword sitting out where I can collect it and go home.”

He knew by the heart beating beside his own (Y/N) was worried. It beat fast, too fast, and her emotions were a wild mix of things too hard to distinguish between. Steve pressed the heel of his hand to his chest and rubbed it there. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.” Or he was going to take the sword Mardöll had sent him after and use it on her.

To the right of the opening, he found a torch and dug his lighter from his pocket. No, he didn’t smoke. No, he didn’t know anyone who did, but it had been a habit back in the day to carry one especially during the war. You never knew when it might come in handy. Now it was merely a reminder of simpler times and something he could use to fidget with when bored.

The torch was old and well used, impossible to light, causing Steve to grit his teeth in frustration before tearing the bottom few inches from his button-down shirt and wrap the fabric around the wood. He’d liked that shirt and was even more annoyed for having to destroy it, but at least he had light to wander into the dark as well as a way of removing the majority of the hanging cobwebs from his path.

He had a flash of memory to a movie (Y/N), and the others had convinced him to watch. A classic they’d said. Steve smirked a little, wondering if he could pull off a fedora like Dr. Jones or if he’d look stupid trying. Still, he felt the part today with his burning branch and leather jacket, delving deeper into the mysteries of this long forgotten tomb.

The path led him into the mountain. The space narrowed and grew tighter, beginning to brush the shoulders of his jacket as he ducked lower. Finally, when it was so tight he had to turn sideways, Steve wondered if he was going to get stuck before he ever found what he was looking for.

He came to a wall with an incredibly skinny crack in it, one he wasn’t sure he could even fit through, but when he reached inside, he found free space beyond. Enough to wave his hand around without wacking it into anything. Throwing the torch through first, he wedged himself into the narrow fissure, swore viciously when the stone raked open his chest, breathed out hard to make himself as thin as possible, and heaved through the crack with all his might.

He stumbled when his boot caught and nearly fell on his torch when he landed in a room with a wooden door.

Steve stared at it a little dumbfounded for the door was pristine, as if it had only been erected the day before. The wood was glossy and smooth, the handle appeared to be gold and shone in the dying light of his torch, but it was the light which came from around the edge of the door which had him reaching forward with caution.

“Should’a known,” he muttered as he pulled it open. “When is anything related to Asgard easy.”

He opened the door far enough that he could peer around it, finding it led to some kind of hallway, dimly lit and made of stone. A burst of laughter came from further down, and he slipped inside, closing the door carefully at his back. More laughter and boisterous shouting came from the other end, and Steve started slowly forward, careful not to make a sound.

When he reached the end of the hallway, he peered out into what looked to be a gathering room of some kind. Long tables lined the floor. A mighty fire burned in an open hearth in the center. Enormous beams, carved with all manner of symbols held up the roof.

Men were gathered around all of the tables, but it was the people seated at the table furthest from him that drew Steve’s attention. A man and woman together in the center, holding hands and laughing as they feasted. The woman was lovely in a dark red dress, like something out of medieval times. Blonde with hazel eyes, she laughed at the burly man next to her when he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. To her left was another large man, his clothing all leather and covered in food stains for he ate with enthusiasm. He had her eyes, but he matched his father for hair colour. It was a rusty red as if it couldn’t decide whether it wished to be red or blonde, and had been braided back, revealing his heavily tattooed skull.

The man who could only be king if the woman was queen, had the same unfortunate mop of unruly red hair, but when he gazed out on the crowd of gathered warriors, his eyes were vibrant, bright blue. They were Steve’s eyes, and he stared at the man in shock before taking in the breadth of his shoulders beneath the same style of tunic Steve had seen Loki wear. A wide flat torque sat against his chest, and a crown of spires and stones wrapped his brow.

Steve had to grab the railing which led down the stairs into the room. He knew them in the same way he knew the valley and the tomb. He _knew_ them. “Mother… father… brother…” he whispered, awed.

Then, his eyes darted to the man who sat next to what had once been his father and Steve inhaled sharply. “Helgi.”

The big warrior looked up, almost as if he’d heard the whisper of his name from Steve’s lips, and pressed slowly to his feet. (Y/N) had said he’d worn his hair long and had a beard, but Steve was stunned by just how long and how much beard. Leather-wrapped braids, metal cuffs, feathers, and beads all adorned his hair. A heavy cloak complete with thick black fur fell from his shoulders, revealing a multitude of dark blue tattoos and heavily muscled arms. A metal band hung on his forearm, a ring of some kind which sat just above the metal and leather bracers, while a torque similar to the one on their father rested against his chest.

“Who hides in the shadows of the hall?” Helgi called out, bringing many a warrior to their feet.

Steve walked cautiously down the stairs. “Wasn’t hiding. Didn’t want to interrupt.”

Everyone at the table joined Helgi on their feet, but it was the woman who gasped softly, “How? It is like… a mirror.”

“Ma’am.” Steve nodded.

“How are you here? And how do you look like the twin of my son?” the king demanded.

Steve flicked his gaze to Helgi who stared at him hard. “He knows.”

“You have come for the ritual sword,” Helgi murmured. “Sváfa has returned to the world. Finally, after all this time.”

“I have,” Steve nodded. “She has.”

His eyes narrowed. “Who are you to be worthy to walk at her side? Who are you to be able to protect her? You come here unarmed and unarmored seeking the ritual sword when it would be simpler for me to take your place and return to my love!” He hurdled the table and charged across the room, brandishing an axe drawn from his hip.

Steve kicked up a shield leaning against the back of a bench and kicked out at it, sending it straight into Helgi’s chest. The big man went sailing backward and to the ground at the foot of the table. “I’m Steve. People call me Captain.”

***

Bucky had just dipped you back over his arm when the door to your suite swung open.

“Darling, your _sjelevenn_ is missing, and you are spending your time… dancing?” Loki asked.

“Don’t get snippy. I need something to keep my mind off things, and Bucky agreed to help by teaching me to dance like Steve dances,” you muttered. “If I keep planning like there is going to be a wedding, I figure there may actually _be_ a wedding.”

“Your hopes are justified, Sváfa dear.”

“You found him?” Bucky asked, lifting your with a flourish.

“Not yet, but I think I know who took him. Or, at least I have an idea.”

“Who?” you asked well aware it was nearly a snarl.

“Someone who uses seiðr as easily as I. Someone who knows me well enough to impersonate me without suspicion. Someone who would be as invested in your future as Odin is.”

“No…” you whispered. “It can’t be.”

“Who?” Bucky asked.

You shook your head in denial. “She’s been gone for ages!”

“For fuck sake who!” Bucky snapped, shaking you by the shoulders.

“Freyja…”

“But I thought… she left?” Bucky muttered, clearly confused.

“She did.” You scrubbed your hands down your face. “Are you sure, Loki?”

Loki sighed. “I cannot fathom it being another. Few could pull off the spell used to take him from the jet. Fewer still who could slip past Strange’s notice.”

“Someone want to clarify this whole mess?” Bucky grumbled.

You made your way over to the sofa Bucky had pushed out of the way and sat down with a thump. “Freyja was the goddess who ruled us, the Valkyrjur. She was our Queen and the goddess of love and beauty as well as war and death. By the time I was born, she had already left us, but Tove told stories, ones passed down to her by her mother and so on, back through the ages. She left because of her husband, Óðr.”

Bucky settled on the couch at your side, while Loki perched on the arm behind you, his hand slipping beneath your hair to rub the back of your neck.

“What happened with the husband?” Bucky asked.

“Freyja… has a necklace, _Brísingamen._ It is said she betrayed him for it. That she saw and lusted so badly for the necklace, she broke her bonds and slept with the ones who created it. She sold her body for the chance to own it. Óðr was so heartbroken, and he fled from her. Left her without a word and without a chance to voice her side of the story. She would never have…” You shook her head. “It wasn’t possible.”

“Why?” Bucky asked.

“Because Aunt Freyja’s bond with Óðr was the first _sjelevenn_ bond. There’s was a love meant to be,” Loki murmured. “To betray one’s _sjelevenn_ … it is not done.”

“You’re so sure?”

“Bucky.” You looked up at him in exasperation. “If she felt one-tenth of what I feel for Steve, she never would have looked twice at another. Not for anything.”

“My mother always said Aunt Freyja proposed the dwarves a wager, one for which she won, and spent the nights away from her _sjelevenn_ drinking them under the table. If she managed to out drink them all in a single sitting, she would take the _Brísingamen_. She succeeded, embarrassing them, and they started the rumour as revenge.”

“And this Óðr guy just fucked off without waiting to hear her side of things?” Bucky snorted. “Some husband.”

“I have never understood that part myself,” Loki agreed. “But then Óðr was, apparently, never the most… stable of minds. He was a minor god, one associated with madness and poetry. If he thought she’d betrayed him…” Loki shrugged.

You relaxed against Loki’s leg. “Freyja left after she found out Óðr had run away and spends her time searching for him throughout the realms. She left Asgard centuries ago, millennium ago, and hasn’t been back. I don’t understand why she would appear now and take Steve?”

“She didn’t just appear.”

You looked toward the door and smiled. “Dr. Strange.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Tony grumbled.

“I see you all the time. Strange not so much,” you teased, getting to your feet.

Stephen chuckled softly as he made his way over and took your hands. “I have heard of your... change of title, your majesty,” he murmured and kissed your knuckles, his cloak brushing gently against your shin.

“Cut it out, doc or I’ll kick your ass,” you quipped, rolling your eyes.

“Still as testy as ever,” he snickered. “You are doing well? Your eyes and senses have steadied?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yes, very well. If people would stop messing up my wedding day, I’d be even better.”

“Perhaps I can assist with that?” Stephen said as he peered around your room. “There is much magic in this place.”

“Mm. Sword, gauntlet, me.” You shrugged. “Him.” You smacked a hand into Loki’s stomach.

“And him.” Strange nodded toward Bucky.

“Me?” Bucky frowned.

“Something you’re carrying…” Strange cocked his head. “Ah, I see.”

“See what?” you asked.

“Nothing. It can wait. As for this woman… Freyja, she has been here off and on for many years. The Ancient One had documented her comings and goings but she never caused trouble, and they got together once in a while to share tea. She was searching for her lover.”

“So we have just explained to Sergeant Barnes,” Loki quipped.

Strange glanced his way but ignore Loki’s sharp tongue, the two of them had never gotten on. “The Ancient One expressed her trust in the woman, so I have never bothered to interfere with her actions. Unlike some.” He threw a condescending sniff Loki’s direction.

“She’s been here all along?” you asked, changing the subject before the two of them deteriorated into a round of trite and cutting remarks.

“Off and on.”

It made you curious. “Doing… what? I mean, other than looking for Óðr.”

“Apparently,” Stephen’s attention flicked to Bucky and then back to you. “She’s been making jewelry.”

***

Helgi picked himself off the ground gingerly. “Perhaps… I have misjudged you.”

“Perhaps you have,” Steve grumbled, eyeing the others warily when they shifted uncomfortably around him.

“You are strangely dressed for a warrior,” Helgi muttered, holding his chest.

“I could say the same of you.” Steve looked him over.

Helgi laughed, and what tension had been in the room waned. “Come, friend Steve. Sit. Eat at my table. You must tell me what battle you lost to have shorn off your hair. It must have been an epic one for someone so strong to lose.”

Steve knew enough from what little (Y/N) had related, the bits and pieces they’d had time to discuss, to know an offer of hospitality was a way of saying he would not be harmed. But he was still wary as he made his way forward to sit in the offered seat at the end of the table next to the man who could be his hairy twin.

“I do not understand, Helgi,” the woman stated, peering between the two of them.

“It is the _sjelevenn_ bond, mother. He is me reborn.” Sharp, assessing blue eyes stared at Steve. “Though… you are missing your mark.”

Steve arched a brow when Helgi turned his head and pulled back his hair to reveal the tattoo. “She wishes to wait until after the wedding.”

“Bah! She is stubborn as a Bilgesnipe,” he huffed and poured a cup of mead before shoving it at Steve.

“She’s feisty alright,” Steve murmured into his glass, careful to sniff it first, knowing just how strong Asgardian liquor could be.

“Feisty… yes, that is a good word for Sváfa.”

“She goes by (Y/N) in this life.”

Helgi drained his cup and slammed it on the table. “If you are here than she is Queen once more and her name, _outsider_ , is Sváfa!”

Steve set his cup down gently. “She wasn’t meant to be Queen, not this life, but someone keeps messing with our journey. Our souls are out of sync, and she hasn’t been back to Asgard as a Valkyrie in over a thousand years. So you call her what you like, but I fell in love with (Y/N), and that’s who I’ll be marrying today once I get this sword Mardöll said I need, so I’d be much obliged if you’d hand it over so I can get back to my girl.”

“He is strong of will, as you are, my son,” the man beside Helgi chuckled.

“Tell me, brother reborn,” called the man at the other end of the table. “Does the lovely Sváfa remember me fondly?”

Steve glanced his way and scowled at the lecherous grin. “She’s never spoken of you.” A roar went up from the listening hall at Steve’s unintentional burn of the man.

He thrust himself to his feet. “You insult me, stranger, in my own house at my own table?”

“My table,” growled their father.

“Sit down, Heðinn. You exchanged nothing more than a kiss at a time of great turmoil for our Sváfa.” Their mother waved a dismissive hand.

“Why was your brother kissing our _sjelevenn_?” Steve asked, glaring at Helgi.

The hairy blond shrugged. “It was our way. She wed him before his avenging me, but the bond would not allow her to outlive me for long. Still, it was how things were done. Is it not so where you are from?”

“No.” Steve didn’t bother to elaborate. It would have been fast, her second marriage, as he knew she had died of a broken heart shortly after Helgi.

“So… tell me of yourself, Steve for whom they call Captain. What battle did you lose for _that_ to occur.” He waved his hand at Steve’s head.

“This is how it’s worn now. It has nothing to do with battles won or lost.”

“Yet they call you Captain? Is this not a military title? A rank of a warrior?” the woman asked.

“In a way. Mine is more… honorary, though I’ve earned it over the years.” Steve smiled at her, finding her pretty in the same way he remembered his own mother being beautiful.

“But certainly you’re some kind of warrior?” Helgi asked. “You are as strong as the Berserkers.”

“I assure you, I’m not of (Y/N)’s descendants. I’m just a kid from Brooklyn who got lucky. I work with a group of other warriors. Powerful people. Enhanced people. We’re tasked with saving the world and getting rid of the bad guys. That’s where (Y/N) and I met.”

“You are of Midgard?” Helgi asked, his eyes widening. “How is that possible? Sváfa is returned, but you are not of Asgard?”

“I told you. Someone here is messing with our lives. We’re going to find out who and stop them, but I can’t help her until I get this sword I came for and go home.”

“Well, if you want the sword… take it,” Heðinn said, waving at the sword hung on the wall behind their father and mother’s thrones. “But it won’t be easy for you.”

Steve pushed to his feet but stopped when Helgi grabbed his wrist.

“One must be worthy to take that sword. No other before you has succeeded. Not even I succeeded when I came for it.”

“I thought this was some symbolic ritual. Something done for the wedding.”

“On Midgard, maybe.” He looked up at Steve gravely. “But this is Asgard.”

Steve sat back down. “Explain.”

Helgi’s brow arched in the same manner as Steve’s. “That was the sword of Hurgid, the first of our line. He was the strongest of us. The best and bravest of warriors born in the time of the god's beginnings. It was said he rode with Freyja and at the side of Odin in a time of great upheaval. The sword remembers its first handler. It will accept no one less than Hurgid as its wielder.”

It made Steve frown as he peered at the sword with the golden hilt and bright amber stone set in the pommel. “I already have a sword. Your sword. _Rettferdighet_.”

He stiffened. “How is that… you should not have that sword.”

“Why?”

“It was taken from me when I died. Lost to my family. How did you come to possess it?” he asked, leaning forward.

“Odin. Odin sent it when he returned (Y/N)’s armour.”

Helgi sat back and scrubbed his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what this means. I don’t know how he came by it. Álfr, he would never give it up. Not even to Odin.”

“He didn’t.” Everyone in the hall jumped to their feet at the sound of Mardöll’s voice. She only scowled at Steve. “You are wasting time. Collect your sword and let us go.”

“What’s the rush?” Steve asked, rising from his chair.

“Your… people grow anxious. The Sorcerer Supreme seeks my presence.”

“Who is she?” Heðinn demanded.

She glared at him. “One who placed you here when you _failed_.”

Steve watched the brute of a man pale before he bowed his head. “Lady.”

“Why are they all here?” Steve asked. “Aren’t you all supposed to go to Valhalla when you die?”

Mardöll turned her harsh glare Steve’s direction. “Only those who are worthy find Valhalla, and I told you, Steven. Beware the ghosts. Too long have you allowed them to hold your attention.”

He looked around at all the bowed heads, the shame coating their faces, and frowned when he looked at Helgi. “But why are you here?”

“Why indeed?” Helgi murmured. “I have often wondered the same.”

“What is this place really?” Steve asked, turning toward Mardöll.

“Your people would call it purgatory.”

Steve stared at her in horror. “What?”

She only shrugged. “It is where they belong for what was done.”

“And him?” He motioned toward Helgi. “(Y/N) said we didn’t go to Valhalla, but why is he here? Why did you call them ghosts?” Steve demanded. 

Mardöll waved her hand, and everything disappeared, leaving behind Helgi, Heðinn, and a host of tombs. “Ask your brother why you are here.”

“He ain’t my brother,” Steve growled.

She narrowed her ocean eyes. “Ask… him… Steven.”

He looked to Helgi who would not meet his eyes and shifted his gaze to Heðinn. “Why are you here?”

Heðinn wouldn’t look at Steve but turned to face the grave nearest him. “Father always preferred you. The eldest. His heir. The nameless son. The one who barely spoke but was given… _everything_. What I wouldn’t have given to be in your shoes.” He laughed softly, and it was raw with anger and hate. “And then one day you came home with a name and a sword and a Valkyrie and not just any Valkyrie but _the_ Valkyrie. The damn Queen!” he bellowed, slamming his fist down on the stones.

“So what? Were you jealous? What did you do that would put you in this place?” Steve asked.

He turned and the sword he’d pulled from somewhere scraped along the stones before he lifted it and pointed it at Helgi. “I killed you,” he sneered. “Helgi killed King Hróðmar in battle with Sváfa at his side. He did so in honourable combat, but Álfr wanted revenge. He challenged Helgi to a holmgang. It was the perfect time to take everything I wanted. The throne, Sváfa, _Rettferdighet_! It was all mine for the taking!”

“And you took it, didn’t you?” Steve muttered, moving cautiously to circle as Heðinn swung the sword his way.

“I did,” he chuckled gleefully. “I was better than you. Stronger than you. Smarter than you! I deserved it all! Me, not you! So I paid the witch woman to slice him with a poisoned blade during his fight with Álfr, and she did an _excellent_ job.”

He lunged, and Steve leaped back, the tip of the blade swinging through the space his stomach had just occupied. “So out jealousy, you murder your brother?”

“I murdered him for _everything_!” he screamed.

“And it got you what, Heðinn? Nothing!” Helgi bellowed. “And took everything instead.”

“I didn’t know it would kill her! How was I?” he snarled.

“She was my _sjelevenn_! Her soul, tied to mine for eternity! Of course, she would die when I did!” Helgi lunged but went right through Heðinn, his body nothing more than spirit.

“You haven’t been able to touch me in hundreds of years! Did you think you could now?” He shouted out a bark of laughter.

Steve stepped in and plowed his fist into Heðinn’s face. “He may not be able to, but I apparently can!”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: violence
> 
> Song: Hold Tight by The Sweeplings

## Chapter Twenty Six

* * *

Heðinn reeled back, stumbled, and fell against the stones of an ancient tomb which crumbled beneath his weight. Helgi looked at Steve in shock before smirking at his fallen brother. “You are great warrior indeed.”

Steve only shrugged and picked up the shield he’d kicked a Helgi. “You fellas are a few hundred years behind the times. We’ve learned some new things since then.” Testing the weight and strength of the handles, Steve slipped the shield onto his arm and gave it a swing. “Nice,” he murmured more to himself than anyone else.

“Thank you,” Helgi said.

“Yours?” Steve asked.

Helgi nodded. “You fight with a shield still?”

Steve chuckled, his attention returning to Heðinn who was picking himself out of the dirt. “It’s complicated. Mardöll? What else did he do to warrant being here?”

She arched a sleek brow and stared at him curiously. “The murder of his brother and the woman who is the child of my soul is not enough?”

“It would be if it was only him. But I’ve seen the castle. The crypt. The other people. What really happened?”

She snapped her fingers and the doorway he’d entered filled with bright white light. “One choice made in the act of jealousy and then covered up by everyone!”

Steve watched the scene unfold. The holmgang where he as Helgi fought another man, a giant of a man, only to take a swipe with a shield which had sent him stumbling into the gathered watchers. Into a woman who sliced a poisoned blade across his forearm. The shock had raced across his face then fear as Helgi realized what had happened. He’d turned in time to deflect Álfr’s blade, but the poison was already doing its job, making him weak, and when the next blow came, Steve watched his lips form the word _Sváfa_ as Álfr’s sword struck true and exited Helgi’s back. Then, Álfr was stripping the sword from his hand and holding it up in triumph.

The image changed, and there was Sváfa, screaming, crying, pleading with the gods. She was bent over him, but Steve could tell the poison, and the sword had done its job for his hand slid limply from her hair. Even devastated as she was, he had a heart-stopping moment of _wow_. She was beautiful. So incredibly beautiful his entire soul seemed to clench at seeing her tears fall and mix with the feathers and braids as she screamed to the sky. In a flash of light Loki appeared, so young, so very young and wrapped his arms around her, dragging her away from Helgi’s lifeless body.

The image changed, and his girl stood with Loki before a woman wearing a headdress of horns and flowers and feathers. Loki looked pissed, much more in keeping with how he looked ninety percent of the time Steve had known him. Clearly, he was not in agreement with what was taking place as he was holding Sváfa up by her elbows while tears flowed and Heðinn leaned in to kiss her. He caught her cheek when she turned her face away, and Steve watched the anger fill Heðinn’s eyes. He grabbed her chin and forced her face around, slamming his lips to hers.

Steve gave a low throated growl and turned a hard glare on Heðinn who had the nerve to smirk.

Another change and this time it was Loki sitting at Sváfa’s bedside, holding her hand as she slipped without fanfare into death, her eyes closing for the last time. Her breath sighed from her, and a tear fell down Steve’s cheek. His heart broke, shattered at his feet when Loki laid her hand across her chest, knelt up on the bed to kiss her forehead, and walked with a tear-streaked face from the room.

The image changed, reformed, and showed Heðinn’s glee as he stripped Helgi’s body of his armour and threw a bag of gold at Álfr’s feet when the man tossed his once brother Helgi’s sword. Their mother and father looked on in shock and horror as did the rest of the hall.

“I… don’t understand…” Helgi murmured.

“Your brother made a deal with Álfr. The holmgang was Álfr’s idea, but Heðinn assured him he’d win. He swore it! All he asked for in return was _Rettferdighet_. Álfr sold Helgi’s body back to them for a bag of gold, but all Heðinn wanted was his brother’s sword. The sword bestowed upon him by the Valkyrie Queen. By my Queen!” she roared.

“I was the heir!” Heðinn shouted.

She had Heðinn by the throat, and Steve hadn’t even seen her move. “You weren’t worthy to be the heir!” she shrieked and made them all cringe. “Tell them what you did!”

Heðinn’s mouth opened and closed, his face reddened, and eyes bugged out as he clawed at her hand. She threw him across the room, a man closing in on three hundred pounds, tossed like a ragdoll by a woman half Steve’s size to slam to the floor in front of the ever-changing images.

“You will not speak, so I will. The King and Queen of Sváfaland knew of their son’s crimes. They knew what you did and spoke not a word. They chose to dishonour the son who was worthy of being the heir with a hushed and rushed burial. They let Heðinn’s poison fester in the very soil of this land. They should have killed you where you stood once your treachery was known, but they covered it up, unwilling to let their lands fall to another if they lost their remaining son and instead allowed Heðinn to destroy it. Within one generation it had all fallen to ruin and has become what you see here today. The most prosperous kingdom in Asgard, gone because of one man’s jealousy and greed. That is why you are here. That is why they are all here!”

“Helgi was nothing special! It should have been me! I should have been the one!” Heðinn snapped, coughing when his voice rasped.

Mardöll slammed her knee into his chest and pinned him to the ground. “Helgi was _blessed_! He was chosen by me to be the _sjelevenn_ of the greatest Queen ever to serve my Valkyrie, and you killed her! You single-handedly started the gears in the clock that is counting down to the destruction of my people and all of it out of _greed!_ ” She snapped her hand out at the wall, and it washed from white to black. “You think you can hide from me? Think you can hide what was done?”

Steve stared in horror at the wall. Like watching a movie unfold, Heðinn was standing in a dark hallway. A person in a cloak, hood raised to hide their face before him. In his hand, Heðinn held out Helgi’s sword, _Rettferdighet_. The person in the cloak reached out to take it, and Steve sucked in air. He knew those bracers or knew ones exactly like those. “A Valkyrie…” he breathed.

“Exactly,” Mardöll sneered. “You gave her the piece she needed to mess with a _sjelevenn_ bond. Now, you’re going to give me what I need. Who did you give the sword to?”

“I don’t know,” he wheezed.

“Let him up,” Steve snarled.

She glanced his way, face hard and eyes cold. “Steven.”

“Let him up!” Steve barked, fists clenching. She got off Heðinn’s chest and dragged the man to his feet. “You did this. You started the ball rolling. Now, you’re gonna tell me who you gave the sword too,” he commanded.

Heðinn kicked up his sword and swung it at Mardöll, but Steve was faster, catching the blow on his shield and shoving the man backward.

“Son, this can go one of two ways,” Steve growled. “The easy way, or the hard way. Your choice.” Heðinn sneered and slammed his sword down at Steve’s head which Steve easily deflected. “The hard way it is.”

He stepped in and punched Heðinn in the face, driving him back, but Heðinn wasn’t deterred like before, taking a backhanded stroke at Steve’s exposed side. The leather of his jacket tore open when it caught on the sword tip, prompting Steve to jump back. The rubble from Heðinn’s crash into the tombs tripped him up, but Steve was quick to recover when the sword again smashed down on his shield. It made him grunt for Heðinn was strong, the shield wasn’t vibranium, and his arm took a good chunk of the vibration the wood transferred.

The sword came down, over and over, pounding into the shield. Steve took three blows in succession before he heard the shield crack as he backed into the wall.

“Fool! You are trapped,” Heðinn laughed. “You are no warrior.”

Steve smirked. “Yeah?” He reached up and grabbed the hilt of the sword above his head. “You’re the one who backed me into a weapon.”

A bark of laughter exploded from Heðinn. “No one can draw that sword. You are as stupid as Helgi if you even dare try!”

“Ya? You think so?” With a mighty heave, Steve threw Heðinn away from him and dropped the shield. It fell into two pieces when it hit the stones, and he wrapped both hands around the sword’s hilt, blade lodged still in its golden scabbard. He pulled, muscles straining as Heðinn got to his feet.

“Do it,” Mardöll encouraged. “Do it. Draw the sword!”

Steve shifted his feet, planted himself like a tree, and pulled. From the corner of his eye, he caught the rush as Heðinn came for him, caught the nearly frantic face of Helgi, the determined one of Mardöll. He felt the muscles in his back protest, the ones in his arms burn, and gave a guttural scream as inch by slow inch the sword slid from its sheath.

A bellow of, “No!” came from Heðinn as he saw the sword start to move, and Steve pulled all the harder. Heðinn was three steps away, two steps, and the sword finally slid free.

Power, unlike anything he’d ever felt flowed through him. Heat and electricity seemed to fire through his veins. It was pleasure and pain and _life. M_ agic and mystery. Everything and nothing at all. It was the universe opening before him, giving and taking and filling him with what felt like eons of wisdom.

The sword resonated, humming in his hands, and Steve breathed. It felt like breathing out stars such energy radiated within him. With the breath came a word:

“ _Randulfr_.”

Steve breathed in and brought the sword to bear against Heðinn’s. They clashed, sparks flew, and Heðinn’s blade shattered. Steve kept going, until the edge of his blade cut into the underside of Heðinn’s chin, forcing the man to freeze. “Now, I don’t know if a dead person can die a second time, but I’m willing to bet if nothing else I can really make you hurt while I’m here. Tell me who you sold us out to?”

Heðinn swung the broken hilt at Steve’s face, but he knocked the blade from Heðinn’s hand and punched him hard in the chest, sending him bodily into the wall. Steve swung the sword up and held the tip pressed to Heðinn’s heart. “Tell me!” he bellowed and a surge of electricity raced down his arm.

“I don’t know!” Heðinn screamed, falling to his knees.

Mardöll placed her hand on Steve’s arm. “There is no use beating it out of him. He truly does not know.”

“How are you so sure?” Steve asked, glaring at the cowering Heðinn.

“You wield _Randulfr_ , the shield-wolf, the blessed sword of Hurgid, strongest of your line. It has many gifts including the ability to make others speak the truth. It is time to go, Steven.” She stepped past Heðinn to take the scabbard from the wall and hand it to him.

“What about Helgi?” Steve asked, noting the moisture present in his hairy twin’s eyes.

“Do not worry about me. Protect Svá- (Y/N), our _sjelevenn_. I will be fine,” Helgi said, sliding the heavy ring from his arm. “You should have this. Wear it with pride, Steve who they call Captain. It is both a mark of our family and of a warrior.”

Steve took the ring of twisted gold, noting the wolf heads on either end and slid it over his hand and beneath his jacket. “Thank you.” He held out his hand, and Helgi grasped his forearm. “Is there nothing to be done? You don't deserve this.”

“He is tied to this place until the curse interfering with your souls is removed,” Mardöll said and gently touched Helgi’s cheek.

“Lady,” he sighed.

“Soon. Soon you will rest,” she whispered. “Soon.”

Steve sheathed the sword and felt some of the vibrating, jittering energy leave him once the blade was covered. “Ma’am?”

She nodded and walked away, heading for the doorway. “Come along, Steven. I will not long stay hidden from both Strange and Loki.”

“Wait,” Heðinn coughed. The two of them stopped and turned back. “I may not know her name, but she didn’t come alone.”

“Who?” Mardöll growled.

“A priestess. The one who married us, Sváfa and I.”

Mardöll hissed like a snake and turned to leave. “This does not negate what you've done,” she snarled.

“I know.”

“Valhalla is closed to you.”

Heðinn’s face fell. “I understand.”

“But if the curse is broken, I may find it in myself to allow you to move on from this place.” With that, she grasped Steve's arm, and the world shifted.

One moment he was standing in the tomb beneath the mountain, the next he was back beneath the trees and Steve threw an exasperated look at Mardöll. “You couldn’t have done that, to begin with?”

“No. I needed you to open the way.”

She walked away into the forest and Steve followed. Clearly angry, he let Mardöll seethe and followed her in silence.

“The temple. I can’t believe it,” she muttered, finally dropping down to sit on a stone and pound her fist into the surface. There was a loud crack which didn’t come from her fist.  

“I need you to explain a few things,” Steve said, crouching down a few feet away. “Like why this sword? What was all that? And who is responsible for this? You clearly know more than you're telling me… Freyja.”

“So you figured it out?” A sad smile curled her lips.

“Took me a minute, but yeah.”

She looked at him for a long moment before speaking. “Helgi’s sword, though usable, is tainted. Odin was unaware of this when he returned it to you.”

“How'd Odin get it?”

“That is something you will need to ask Odin.”

“And the rest?”

A heavy sigh seemed to age her before his eyes. “I left my people in the hands of a very specific lineage. Even though I was gone I never truly was. I pushed marriages, created bonds, arranged clandestine meetings, all for one reason.”

“Sváfa.”

“Yes. She is the greatest Queen ever to rule. She should have ruled longer. Much longer. But greed and jealousy and hatred soured the guts of another, more than one apparently. Sváfa should have been born again and again as a Valkyrie, spending much of her time on Asgard with only a few rebirths on Earth, but this curse has knocked everything off kilter.”

“So why don't you fix it? They are your people. Show up in all your feathered glory and put them straight!” He lurched to his feet and paced a few meters away. “My girl is blind. Her life is already so much harder. Throwing her back into this world, why would you make her do this?”

“It’s too late.”

He turned to face her. “Why?”

Freyja hung her head and sighed. “I abandoned my people when Óðr left me. There was nothing for it. I had to. I must find my _sjelevenn_. Centuries now he’s run from me and I… I am tired of seeking him out. It, it hurts, Steven,” she whispered, tears of blood red gold falling from her eyes. “It hurts so much, every day.”

Her pain seemed to pierce his own heart, and Steve returned to sit at her side and hold her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry he didn’t believe you.”

“He never gave me a chance…” She knuckled the tears from her eyes.

“We can help. Maybe Strange can find him. He’s got all those mystic arts of his.”

Freyja sighed. “The Sorcerer Supreme refused. She said it was not her business to interfere in another’s life.”

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s Strange isn’t the Ancient One,” Steve offered.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “You have a kind heart, but it is not your problem. It is mine. I can’t return to the Valkyrjur because it would be like saying I was giving up. I can’t give up. Óðr left me and all because of this.” She gave the necklace around her throat a tug. “I despise the thing, but it’s as cursed as I am. I’m to suffer it’s company until I can reconcile with Óðr, and he will take one look at it and remember the pain it caused.”

“Is that why you took up making jewelry?”

Her head lifted, and she peered at him before a smile twitched up her lips. “You are far more observant than I gave you credit for.”

“I’ve had a lifetime of studying people. It took me a while to figure you out.”

She fingered the necklace with its big amber stone. “I thought, if I could make it, I would never be tempted by it again.”

Steve squeezed her fingers. “You ever thought about having someone else talk to him?”

“I can’t even find him,” she huffed.

“But when you do. Get someone else to go in and explain your side. If he loves you even half as much as I do (Y/N), he’ll listen. I’m sure he hurts as much as you do.”

“I don’t know, Steven.”

“Think about it, doll. It can’t hurt.”

“Even if I do find him, I can’t come back, Steven. I can’t take the mantle of Queen from (Y/N) to smooth the way. Too much time has passed.”

He sighed and looked out at the forest. “She’s scared.”

“She does not need to be.” Freyja pushed from the rock and dragged him to his feet. “She is stronger than before. Faster. The loss of her eyesight has made her better. It seems… counterintuitive but it is true. What meddling I have done, has been to see to her birth at the direction of the Norns. What I have been tasked with now, is also at their direction.”

“Who are these Norns?” Steve asked.

“Beings far beyond your understanding. They are beyond my understanding. If we are gods to men, they are the gods to the gods. Powerful, mystical, with a plan I have not yet fathomed. The Norns… they are like the god of your people. Mysterious and far-seeing. What their plan is, it is not meant for us to know until it is revealed.”

Steve nodded slowly. “So what do we do? I’ll do anything to stop this. I love her… so much. The idea of never spending another life…” He rubbed the heel of his hand over his chest.

“Help her find the one who started the curse. They must be _sjelevenn_ , but the reason behind it? Jealousy? Greed? I don’t know. To find out the temple is involved too? Things have gotten much more complicated.”

“The Hounds of Hydra had her life scroll.”

“What?” Freyja’s head whipped up.

“So Loki said that’s what it was.”

A fire of rage sparked in her eyes. “There will be a reckoning. You must find the ones responsible. You and Sváfa must cleanse the temple.”

“Where do we even start?”

“You already have.” She let out a piercing whistle. “The sword you retrieved will give you access to places which once would have been closed to you. Your ownership of it, for it is now yours, announces you as Hurgid’s true heir. You are no longer just Steven, son of Rogers from the land of Midgard, but Steven of Sváfaland, son of Hurgid.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Why is everything so complicated with you people?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “We are a proud people. Our history and lineage are important to us. Because of that blade, you are more than just another _sjelevenn_. You are, technically, a King in your own right and a lord in Thor’s court. You have much more power here than you would have. You needed that sword.”

“And the other sword?”

“Bucky will need a blade. He is a worthy soul to carry _Rettferdighet_. It just cannot be yours. It was used in the curse against you. It will not be a boon to you in a fight. _Randulfr_ is the sword meant for your hand.”

The sound of wings had Steve looking up in time to watch the pegasus descend from the cloud cover. He’d thought Hemme was huge, but this creature was even bigger. Black as night, he had rows of white feathers patterning his wings and eyes of ruby red.

“Damn,” he muttered and made Freyja giggle.

“He’s pretty, isn’t he?” She gave the big steed’s nose a gentle pet and then sobered when she turned back to Steve. “I can’t give you all the answers you seek because I don’t know them. The who, the how, the why? Those are questions Frigga, and I have been trying to discern for a very long time. They are questions which much be found from within the Valkyrjur. You, Sváfa, and Bucky will have to find them as I cannot. Trust no one but each other, Thor, and Loki.”

“Trusting Loki has never been easy,” Steve murmured. “Though, after that,” he nodded toward the crumbling tomb, “I understand him a little better.”

“Loki loves Sváfa like a sister. She’s never turned her nose up at him for being different. Theirs is a kinship that lasted through the ages, and if she’d been where she should have been, the incident with the Chitauri would have never happened.”

“She’s got that much sway over him?”

“Yes.”

Steve blinked in surprise but remembered the devastation on Loki’s face when she’d died that first time. He knew that feeling. Knew just how much it hurt when someone you were that close to slipped from your grasp. “Okay. So… where do we start?”

“You start by securing her throne. She will be challenged; it is only a matter of time. You, too, will be goaded into proving your prowess. Do not let them get under your skin.”

A snicker escaped him. “I’ll be fine. There ain’t much people can say to get me riled up anymore.”

“Good, but they will try.”

“Let them.”

She closed her hand into a fist, whispered a few words, and opened it to hold out a ring, not unlike the one Steve had gotten from Helgi only in silver. “This will announce where Barnes’ loyalty lies. He is a brother to you, but this proclaims him as kin, a part of your clan. It will also keep his arm from failing thanks to the magic of Asgard.”

Steve took it and tucked it in his inner coat pocket. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Steven. I’m afraid the challenge is only beginning.” She patted his chest and motioned to the pegasus nibbling her hair. “Kriger will take you home.”

“Kriger? Wasn’t he your first Pegasus?” Steve asked.

“First and every. He is the original Pegasus. The father of them all. He does not age like the others.” She smiled at him and scratched the equine’s chin, who then lipped at her fingers. “Flirt.”

“I did wonder how (Y/N) ended up with white feathers from your black pegasus,” he chuckled.

She smiled and tugged Kriger’s whiskers. “Take Steve back to his _sjelevenn_. I’m certain she’s growing a little frantic by now.”

“A little.” Steve rubbed his chest where her heart beat harder than it should.

Freyja frowned at the action. “How do you know?”

“Her heart. It beats right here next to mine.”

Her eyes widened in clear surprise. “Well… that’s new.” She shook her head and laid her fingers over his heart. “The wonders of a super soldier _sjelevenn_. You should go.”

“You’re not coming?” Steve asked as he slung the sword on his back and moved toward Kriger, gently brushing his hands over the big stallion’s shoulder like he had with Hemme.

“No. I have already disrupted her day enough, but this was the only time the way would be open to you and therefore me. You had to retrieve the sword. The day of your wedding was your one chance. I had hoped Heðinn would have the answers I sought, but he has only added more questions.”

Steve swung himself up on Kriger’s back. “I have one last question.”

“Ask it.” She looked up at him with her ocean eyes as she leaned comfortably against Kriger’s chest and stroked her hand up and down his throat.

“How is that purgatory? They looked like they were celebrating.”

She smiled, and it was terrifying. “Fighting and battle is a large part of our culture, Steven, son of Hurgid. None of those gathered in that hall could touch let alone exchange a blow. They live in a constant state of peace. A never-ending feast of monotony. Believe me. That is a punishment to rival any state of torture.”

“That’s…” He didn’t know what to say.

“It is what they deserve.” Freyja patted Kriger’s neck. “Go home, Steven. Get married, and take a few days for the two of you alone. Soon you will have to return to Asgard, and then the real battle will begin.”

She stepped away, and before he could say any more, Kriger was in motion, spinning on his hindquarters to race for the cliff’s edge, launching the two of them out into the air over the valley.

He cast a final glance at the castle of stone crumbling below before the cloud cover disrupted his view.

***

“You can’t go.” Loki stepped into your path.

You stepped around him and picked up your newly restored armour, hooking the thigh guards to your boots and slapping the bracelets around your wrists. “I damn well can.” Tony still hadn’t figured out a good way to carry the chest piece, so you picked it up and pressed it against your heart, activating the whole works. Your armour crawled over your body swiftly, and you buckled your sword around your waist.

“No. Strange didn’t know where on Asgard, only that Steve is there. Going off with half the information is asking for trouble.” Loki grabbed you by the arm.

“Let go,” you snarled and wrenched away. “I’ve had enough of interfering gods today, Loki. First Odin, now Freyja. Don’t add yourself to my shit list!”

“Darling,” he sighed.

You ignored him and threw your cloak around your shoulders before picking up your helmet. “Get out of my way, Loki.” He stepped back, and you walked out of the bedroom past a gaping Strange and smirking Stark. Gauntlet flashing, you slipped your helmet on and headed out into the hall at a quick clip.

“This is what a Valkyrie looks like?” Strange asked, falling in at your side.

“Yes.”

“So, miss feisty,” Tony snickered. “You’re just going to fly off and scour the landscape until you find him?”

“Yes.” You tapped your ear. “Once I’m there, I will listen for him.”

“Listen?” Stephan asked.

“My mentor figured I could hear all of New York if I tried. Asgard is nowhere near as loud. I’ll find him. I have to.” No one and nothing was going to stand in your way.

“Want company?” Clint asked, jogging toward you. He and Laura had returned with the kids shortly after the discovery of Steve’s abduction.

“If anyone is going with her it will be me,” Loki huffed.

You marched through the exterior doors and let out a piercing whistle. “I will be fine. Hemme and I can be in and out before anyone notices we’re there.”

“Not without help!” Loki barked, snatching you back by the shoulder. “You go back like this, alone and without an escort, they will come for you, and it will be damn near impossible to get anyone to you once you’re locked in the halls of the Valkyrjur!”

Again you shrugged him off. “He’s my _sjelevenn_!” you shouted as Bucky rushed out the doors.

“You’re not going without me!” he snapped, and you threw your hands into the air as Hemme galloped out of the forest.

“Damn,” Stephan muttered. “That’s a horse with wings.”

“He’s a pegasus,” you huffed. “I’m going for my _sjelevenn_. None of you can stop me, and I swear by the flames of Valhalla if you don’t get the fuck out of my way I’ll…” You trailed off as awareness crackled over you like a lightning strike.

“You’ll what, highness?” Tony growled.

“We’re not letting you go off alone again, brat,” Clint said. “Not after last time when we nearly lost you.” His hand closed around yours.

“If you think I’m letting you fly out of here without your _guard_ , you’re outta your damn mind. Hey? Are you even listening?” Bucky huffed.

“Someone’s coming.” You pulled away from all of them, throwing your cloak back and resting your hand on your sword as a crack appeared in the sky. A single pegasus flew through the opening and dropped swiftly toward the ground, backwinging to land lightly in the gravel.

“(Y/N)?” the rider called as they jumped to the ground.

“Steve!” you cried, ripping off your helmet and letting it fall as you took a stumbling step toward him.

He patted the shoulder of the Pegasus with a murmur of thanks before striding toward you to meet you halfway and catch you up in his arms, while the big stallion took off behind him and disappeared into a new tear in the sky. “Baby. Missed you.”

“Dammit, Steven! I was worried half to death. Where the hell have you been?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tight.

“Asgard,” he said against your throat where he’d buried his face.

“I was so scared something had happened to you. Are you alright? I can smell your blood. Are you injured?” You dropped your hands to shove at his shoulders and touch his chest. “Why are you all scraped up? What’s this? What did Freyja want with you?”

His hands went to your face so he could capture your mouth with his and stop your frantic flow of words. Once you’d softened into him, your arms sliding around his waist, he slowly lifted his head. “I’m fine. I got scraped up getting into this tomb. And what Freyja wanted was answers and to help me get this.” He reached over his shoulder and drew the sword from his back.

The magic in it invoked a memory of a sword hanging on the wall of rock, and you stepped back. “What… what… _how_?”

“She said I needed it.”

“Hurgid’s sword… but… no one can draw that sword,” you whispered. “She took you to the tomb? For this?”

He nodded. “And other things.”

“But… you’re okay?” you asked, laying your hand on the gold scabbard and running the other down his arm.

“Yeah.” He smirked a little grin and stroked a finger over your armour. “Were you coming to get me?”

“Damn right!” you huffed. A lump beneath his leather jacket gave you pause. “What’s this?”

Steve wrapped his arm around your waist and encouraged you back toward the others. “Let’s go inside. I’ll show you.”

“Oi, punk! What’s the big idea freaking the rest of us out?” Bucky barked.

“Jerk! I didn’t do it on purpose! Wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter,” Steve grumbled even as he grinned. “Please tell me you caught it?”

“Yeah, yeah. I saved your ass,” Bucky mumbled, though he too was smiling. 

With your arm wrapped around Steve, you breathed a sigh of relief, wondering just how long it would last before chaos rained down on you again, and just what secrets he would reveal with the retelling of his tale.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: language, creative license in regards to the gods of Asgard
> 
> Song: Soldier of Love by Poesy

## Chapter Twenty Seven

* * *

Steve finished his tale for the others, ending with handing over the new silver arm ring to Bucky who took it with quiet reverence, a look of awe coming over his face when he accepted it and slipped it over his left hand. The group as a whole remained silent, the weight of his words seeming to hang over the lot of them like thunderclouds until (Y/N) stood slowly to her feet and walked away.

She looked utterly devastated, but when he stood to go after her, she raised her hand. She needed a moment. Still, he could feel the pain and confusion in her heart as she left the room.

“Steve,” Bucky murmured, drawing his attention.

Steve pulled his gaze from his girl and took the small box his friend held out. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Hopefully that will cheer her up some. This is all kinds of screwed up,” Bucky sighed.

“It is that,” Steve agreed. He was having a hard enough time wrapping his head around Helgi and Freyja and all the rest. He couldn’t even imagine how hard it must be for (Y/N) when she had so many memories to contend with and the betrayal of her people now confirmed.

“You seem to have left out a few glaring details, Captain,” Loki smirked as he cleaned his nails with the tip of a knife.

“Loki, don’t,” Steve warned. He’d left certain things out for a reason.

“What?” He shrugged, playing the innocent. “You do not want it known the Captain is now a King?”

“What!?” barked nearly every voice in the room.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Loki. “Really? Did you have to?”

“No. But I wanted to,” Loki grinned.

“Wait! What the hell does he mean _king_?” Bucky asked.

“I, too, am curious. First Thor, then (Y/N), now you, Captain? Should I expect Stark to be next?”

They turned as a group toward the door where T’Challa stood smiling with a grinning Shuri and the stoic-faced Okoye.

“I would be Emperor, not king,” Tony snorted, striding forward to greet T’Challa.

“No one in their right mind would make you Emperor of anything,” Natasha mocked, earning herself a glare.

“T’Challa.” Steve joined Tony and shook the King of Wakanda’s hand. “Glad you could make it.”

“That you think I would miss the wedding of the Captain and the Valkyrie Queen shows you do not know me well,” he teased causing Shuri to giggle.

“More like _I_ wouldn’t miss it,” Shuri said, darting forward to hug Steve around the waist before deserting him for Bucky who grabbed her up and swung her around, making her squeal.

Steve looked at Okoye who only shrugged.

“They made me come,” she quipped.

“You were as excited as Shuri was,” Nakia huffed, striding into the room. “You realize there is a large horse with wings grazing on your lawn?”

“He belongs to (Y/N),” Steve explained.

“Ah. I thought perhaps the doctor was being tricky,” T’Challa said, grinning at Strange.

“I take no blame for that creature.” Stephan held up his hands.  

Nakia held out her hands, and Steve took them to give a gentle squeeze of greeting.

“Where is the blushing bride?” she asked.

“We’ve had some… disturbing news. She needed a minute,” Steve said softly.

“Nothing too distressing, I hope?” she asked with a frown.

“Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Good.” She smiled and released him. “By the way, we picked up a stray on the way in.” She turned toward the door as running feet sounded.

“There’s a horse! A horse with wings! Holy… holy… on the lawn!” Peter gasped as he stumbled to a stop.

“Hemme is (Y/N)’s,” Tony chuckled, patting the kid’s shoulder. “Just breathe, kid. If you ask nicely, maybe she’ll introduce you.”

“Really?” Peter sucked in air.

“Me too?” Shuri piped up.

“I’m sure she would. Maybe a little later,” Steve offered.

“Yes!” The two teenagers exchanged a smug, superior glance before they tilted their heads together and began chattering about… something Steve knew nothing about.

“So, what is this _Kingship_ you speak of, Steven?” T’Challa asked.

“He retrieved the sword of Hurgid, first King of Sváfaland and greatest of his lineage, granting the humble Captain the designation of Hurgid’s true heir. He is a King and a Lord in Thor’s court.”

Steve shot Loki another glare. “You really need to shut up.”

“Refusing to speak on it will not make it any less true… your majesty.” Loki’s grin was wide enough it reminded Steve of a cat who’d eaten a canary.

“King of a crumbling castle and empty lands,” Steve huffed.

“Even so, he is still a King,” came the voice of Vision.

Steve looked at Vision who was peering at him curiously. “I’m no different than before, Vis.”

“Yet, you hold a power some would kill for. One someone has killed _you_ for once before. The way history is repeating itself is… intriguing.”

“Seeing as how the Captain stands before me, whole and well, I wonder how he could have been killed for his crown? It sounds an interesting tale. One I would hear in full,” T’Challa said quietly.

“I’ll have to leave you to get the recitation from the others. My girl needs me.” Steve rubbed the heel of his hand over his chest, gave the group a nod, and left them all behind as he went to find (Y/N).

He’d barely rounded the corner into the first hall before a swirl of green and gold magic had him arching a brow at Loki, appearing out of nothing at his side. “Loki?” The God of Mischief stepped in front of him, causing Steve to stop walking.

“You must not be so flippant about who you are.”

The harshness of Loki’s features and the worry in his eyes gave Steve pause. “Why?”

“Asgard is not Midgard. There, who you are and from whence and whom you came is as important as the deeds you can count to your name. You are Hurgid’s heir. His _true heir_! This, in and of itself, is enough to grant you leisure in the halls of Asgard. Add to it the… reputation you already have as one of Thor’s closest allies and a man he claims confidant, and you will garner many who seek to be your _friend_. Not all will do so with the best of intentions. It is a court, after all. Those who know and are seen with you will gain prestige. They will seek to ingratiate themselves with you to gain closer ties with Thor as well as access to the Valkyrie Queen. Watch your back, Captain.”

“What did Hurgid do that was so all-fired important? This?” Steve shook the sword in his hand. “It’s like holding a galaxy in my fist when I drew it the first time. So much power. Even now I can hear it whisper like a voice, ancient, wise, trying to tell and teach me things. Who the hell was this Hurgid that he’d have something like this?”

Loki motioned toward an empty room, and Steve followed even as he ached to go after his girl. These were things he needed to know, and Freyja had said he could trust Loki, even if it felt counterintuitive.

“What I tell you is known to me only via tales told at Odin’s knee. Hurgid was gone from Asgard before my birth.”

Steve frowned. “He's not in Valhalla? The way everyone talks about him, you'd think he'd been granted a seat.”

“All part of the tale I was told if you'd but listen. Time grows short, Captain. Keep your interruptions to a minimum.” Loki cast him a hard glance of warning before continuing. “Hurgid was a man like any other in his youth. Born to a simple family of farmers, it became clear as he grew older he was… special. Not all of us are born Gods. Many on Asgard are no different than the people of Earth. Some live longer lives, others your standard one hundred. It simply depends on bloodlines and realm of origin.

Hurgid, it seemed, was far more Asgardian than whatever his native land - now lost to time - had been, for he grew in strength as he aged, his looks pleasing, his prowess in both swordplay and… other pleasures becoming the thing of legends.”

Loki smirked, but Steve ignored his insinuation and waved him to continue.

“Hurgid travelled the land, seeking his fortune when Father was still young. Yet retaining both eyes, Odin rode with Ve and Vili, his brothers as he began his campaign through the realms to gather them under his mantle. It was when his brothers decided it would be better for themselves to be king of all the realms that father met Hurgid.

A giant boar had been unleashed to terrorize the people, created by Ve and Vili to draw Odin in. They went with him in good faith to kill the beast, but instead, left father to face it alone in its savagery. He fought the creature for a night and a day before it knocked him down and away from his spear.

Hurgid had also heard tell of the giant beast rampaging through the land and had come to test his prowess when the noise of Odin’s battle came to his ear. He approached cautiously, unaware of just _who_ it was who fought so fiercely over the ridge. It was as Odin was taking his flight through the trees that Hurgid arrived upon the scene.

Father said Hurgid came out of nowhere, appearing at a run to swoop down, pick up Odin’s mighty spear, and plunge it into the board’s eye before Odin could be killed. Wounded in the battle, father was no match for Ve and Vili, so Hurgid hid him for three days as his brothers searched the forests, rocks, and caves of the land. When they came upon Hurgid sitting before his fire, they dismissed him as a peasant even as he spared with them verbally, offering meat and bread, and what mead he had left, keeping them distracted from looking too deep into the shadows of his cave.

They denied him and continued to search, only to return twice more. The third day when they returned the final time, Odin was fit and healed, sitting at Hurgid’s fire, covered in his cloak, appearing as nothing but an old man. His brothers paid him no mind and began to harass Hurgid, calling him a liar for the trail of blood Odin had had his ravens hide was suddenly clear and led directly to Hurgid’s cave.

Hurgid became offended at this. After offering them hospitality and a seat at his fire three times, they dared to come back and accuse him of being a liar when, in fact, not once did they question him regarding Odin? Such blatant disrespect would not stand under the laws of Odin!”

Steve wondered about that, these _laws of Odin,_ but kept his mouth shut. He could always ask (Y/N) about them later.

“Ve and Vili laughed, calling Hurgid foolish for standing with Odin when the King of Asgard would soon be dead.

It was then Odin arose, whole and well from his seat to strike down his brothers having heard enough. Their betrayal was complete. No longer was he able to deny their treasonous ways.

For his part, Odin granted Hurgid a boon, and your ancestor asked to join him in his quest to quiet the nine realms. To ride out with Odin in battle and guard his flank. Odin agreed but said such a warrior, one who could wield his own mighty Gungnir to slay such a massive boar should have a weapon worthy of him.” He motioned toward the sword in Steve’s hand. “That sword was created from the tusk of the boar who’d gored him and was dipped in Odin’s blood, laced with metal from a fallen star, and forged in the flames of Valhalla. There is no other like it for it carries the magic of three gods, two of which are no more.”

Steve suddenly felt the weight of just what a weapon it was he was holding and wondered if he was in over his head. Just what was he getting himself into?

“In time,” Loki continued, unaware of Steve’s inner misgivings, “Hurgid became both friend and confidant with father. They fought and warred and celebrated together. Aunt Freyja used to speak of him fondly as well, and father granted him the wilds lands where they met as Hurgid’s own kingdom once the realms were gathered under his rule, for wise men like your ancestor could be trusted to see to the people in Odin’s name. Hurgid married and had his heir, but much like Heðinn, the man was unworthy of the true strength of Hurgid. There was a greed in him. A poison and corruption. A thirst for more, more, more! So Hurgid passed him over for the younger son and in so doing signed his death warrant. 

Igan, the elder son, in his rage at being denied, struck down his father in cold blood, but with his dying breath, Hurgid called out to Odin. Father went to him, and his anger at seeing what Igan had done was all consuming. He killed the man without hesitation, cursing him to Hell for his transgression before kneeling to gather Hurgid to him. Grief weighed heavy upon Odin’s heart, but he knew when Freyja arrived moments later it was to take Hurgid to Valhalla where he belonged, granting him the highest honour by coming to collect him herself, but Hurgid had other ideas.” Loki turned to peer out the window, seeming lost in his memories. “As you've said, the sword speaks wisdom. It teaches those with the ear to listen, and Hurgid was an intelligent man. He knew with Igan’s betrayal he couldn't give the mighty _Randulfr_ to just anyone. It would be too powerful in the hands of someone with weak morals, so he asked Odin to take him to the tomb.

There, with Freyja’s help, he used the last of his strength to seal the sword to the wall to await the coming of his true heir. It took everything he had, leaving nothing for Freyja to take to Valhalla.”

Steve stared at the sword with new eyes. “He put his soul into it?”

“Into the binding which held it in trust for you. He chose a final death, a permanent one. Odin asked him not to, asked him to continue on, go with Freyja and live better days in Valhalla, but he said Hurgid only smiled and… let go.”

Quiet lapsed between them for a long moment before Steve slowly traced his fingers down the ornate scabbard. “Guess history really does repeat itself.”

“It seems you were destined to be the companion of Asgard’s king,” Loki agreed.

“You're not going to try and kill Thor again, are you?” Steve asked with a small grin.

“I make no promises,” Loki chuckled.

Steve turned to go but paused and turned back. “Thank you. Both for this and for helping us.”

Loki shrugged. “She is family.” He said it flippantly, but he wasn't fooling anyone.

“Loki, thank you as well for being with her after Helgi... after _I_ died. I know it wasn't easy for you. And I appreciate your displeasure at her marriage to that bastard.” Steve’s grin widened.

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Aunt Freyja has been telling tales.” He waved a dismissive hand. “It was an archaic tradition, to begin with, and I never liked Heðinn. You were, at least, tolerable.”

Steve slowly held out his hand. “Things have been… tense between us. Not just you and I but the team as well. I’d like to change that and not just for (Y/N)’s sake. What you did for her when you went against the temple…” He shook his head. “I’ll never be able to thank you.”

This time the shock was evident on Loki’s face as he took Steve’s offered hand and gripped his wrist. “She’s… family. I shouldn’t have ever given her up-”

“Don’t.” Steve tightened his grip when Loki tried to pull away. “Don’t dismiss what you did, what you succeeded in doing because, eventually, you succumbed to their torture. I can’t even imagine what it felt like to have those chains sear into your flesh, and you went through it more than once. Don’t make light of your sacrifice by saying it wasn’t enough. It was _more_ than enough,” he said harshly. “She has to go back. We have to go back. What you did was give her the time she needed to finish, once and for all, the horror of her past. Don’t ever make light of the pain you went through to do so.”

Whether there was moisture dampening the God of Mischief’s eyes or not, Steve would never be certain, but Loki’s gratitude could not be mistaken. For a moment, he finally saw through the snide, jovial, mischievous mask Loki wore to the man behind it.

(Y/N) had talked a little about Loki and his past. About growing up in Thor’s shadow. About being different from the others and how it had caused him to be seen as somehow lesser than his brother. About how Frigga was his world and when it became evident Loki would become a master in _seiðr_ rather than some muscle-bound warrior, it had further ostracized him.

Here was that man. The one aching to be acknowledged and accepted for who he was. The one who had wanted approval so badly, he’d nearly destroyed the planet of his birth to get it from his father. The one who’d gone so round the bend when it had been denied him, he’d come for Steve’s world instead.

“She adores you,” Steve said softly. “She fights and stands up for you so fiercely that people keep their opinions of you to themselves now to avoid her wrath.” He smirked a little and let Loki go. “Freyja said I could trust you. (Y/N) trusts you implicitly. But I’m choosing to trust you, Loki, not because they tell me I can, but because of what I saw in that tomb.”

The mask slipped seamlessly back in place, and Loki grinned wickedly. “Are you certain that is wise, Captain?”

Steve lifted his chin and gave a short nod. “Guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

The mask cracked, and Loki’s smile wavered. “I guess we will.”

He made to leave again only to have Loki shift toward him.

“May I… see the ring?”

The quietly worded request was so unlike him, Steve dug the box from his pocket without hesitation and held it out. Loki took it from him, lifted the lid, and ran his finger over the stone.

“Aunt Freyja… what are you playing at?” he murmured quietly, a smirk on his face.

“What?” Steve asked, curious. He knew Freyja would do nothing to harm (Y/N), but the fact Loki was so interested piqued his as well.

Mischief filled green orbs lifted and Loki’s smile was decidedly wicked. “You will see, Captain.” The box closed with a snap, and he handed it back. “Hurry along now. Once you are finished with (Y/N), we have things to discuss and your accoutrement to see to.” He made a motion, shooing Steve out the door.  

Clearly, nothing more was going to be said, and Steve walked away knowing they’d come to an understanding of sorts. It was good and one less thing he would have to worry about in Asgard. He knew Loki would do nothing to endanger (Y/N) and do whatever he could to ensure this curse on them was broken. The God of Mischief wanted many more years with the woman he knew as Sváfa. That would not happen if they all failed to figure this out.

Steve nodded to the few people he passed, all looking mildly surprised to see him packing a large gold wrapped sword, but… this was the Avengers. Most of the staff had learned to roll with the punches, hence the reason many were in some sort of formal attire and wished him congratulations when he passed.

Steve shook his head and sighed. Here he was, about to get married, and he had no idea what was happening, where, when, or how. It was… odd and a little disheartening but also so in keeping with his life, he wasn’t sure why it surprised him _this_ was how the day would go.

He pushed open the door to their room and had his heart clench hard at the sight which greeted him. (Y/N) appeared lost in thought, staring blankly at the wall with tears on her face. Those ethereal eyes of hers seemed all the more haunting with the crystalline drops shining on her lashes and dripping down her cheeks.

The door shut with a quiet click. He rested the sword carefully against the wall. His strides were long to take him to her side where he knelt slowly at her knees and took her hands in his. “Sweetheart?”

“Steve…” she whispered. Her features twisted and more tears fell.

He released her hands but only to slide them beneath her and bring her down to him, hold her close and warm her chilled skin. Her armour was gone, the cloak and boots, but the rest of her leathers remained, and he could see the gooseflesh on her arms. “Talk to me, please,” he murmured against her hair, stroking his palm up and down her arm.

“It’s all so fucked up,” she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder. “Helgi, Heðinn, the Valkyrjur, and the Temple. The greed and covetous nature of one man ruined… _everything_. But then to find out my people, _my own people_ took it one step further? Was I such a horrible Queen? Was I so hated and despised they thought to be rid of me permanently?”

“No.” Steve threaded his fingers through her unbound hair and pulled until he could see her upturned face. “No, that’s not it at all. It was two people. Two out of thousands. Maybe a handful at most. I can’t imagine anyone not loving you, cherishing you, adoring you, the way I do,” he said quietly and kissed her softly.

The salt of her tears was bittersweet on his tongue.

“So much hate,” she whispered when he lifted his head. “I never knew how Heðinn felt. I never saw it. His obsession. How could I miss it? And now, to hear Helgi is trapped? That a piece of your soul isn’t whole with him missing, I… I don’t know what to think, Steve. I don’t know how to feel. Everything hurts. I had two more lives on Asgard where he was trapped in that tomb and I never even-”

Steve pressed his mouth to hers again, stilling the flood of words as he held her head and did his best to steal her breath away. She sighed and clutched at him, her hand curling into a fist in his jacket. Only then did he lift his lips from hers with reluctance as he was thoroughly addicted to her mouth. “Do you think he blamed you? That I blame you? Baby,” he sighed and let his forehead touch hers. “How were you to know? You couldn’t have. He’s there because of things outside your control. Once we figure this out, he’ll be free. Freyja said he would rest.” He didn’t know whether that meant what was left of Helgi would disappear to rejoin his soul, or if Helgi would continue on to some Asgardian afterlife, but whatever it would be, Steve would be happy he was free.

Which… messed with his head a little. After all, he was Helgi reborn and here he was, wishing himself well. It seemed rather... self-serving.

The flood of tears had slowed, but he could still feel the rampant confusion and sorrow writhing in her heart. Steve shifted his fingers through her hair, dragging the pads over her scalp. Her lashes fluttered, and her eye closed, a quiet moan falling from her lips. Steve did it a second time before cupping her cheek. He stroked his thumb over her smooth flesh, over the high arch of bone and down to graze her lip, waiting for her to return those stunning orbs to the world when she lifted her dusky lashes.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next days and weeks. I don’t know the answers or have the words that will soothe your heart. All I know is I love you, and nothing, absolutely nothing, will ever change that. We can get through this together. It’s you and me, til’ the end of time.”

A small smile tweaked her lips. “Don’t let Bucky hear you say that. You’ll give him a complex using his line on me.”

“He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother, in this life at least,” Steve chuckled softly. “He knows how important he is to me, but this? You?” He caressed her face and lip again, giving it a small pull with his thumb which caused her tongue to dart out and lick at him. Heat washed over his abdomen and dropped like a stone to burn in his loins. “Baby… this is eternity.”

“Steve.” She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and tugged, but he resisted.

“I need you like I need air,” he whispered, studying the curve of her cheek, the slope of her nose, the colour of her eyes as fresh tears filled them so he would remember her forever.

His back connected with the coffee table when she lurched up and wrapped her arm around his neck. Slippery like an eel, she ending up straddling his thighs.  

“Ditto,” she breathed and sealed her mouth to his.

A laugh bubbled up in his throat but came out a strangled moan when she rocked her hips into his, sending certain portions of his anatomy leaping into life. He dropped his hands to her ass, clad in leather and so fucking sexy, and dragged her higher.

It was an instant case of _want_. His desire for her was suddenly raging as she ground against him and flicked her tongue over his teeth. But the box in his pocket felt like it was burning a hole in his thigh, its presence and her reaction to its reveal all he could think about now that the moment was here.

He lifted her bodily back to the couch, nearly falling in her lap when (Y/N) refused to let go. “Baby, please.”

“No,” she whined and wiggled closer. “I like kissing you. I like doing other things just as much. I think you should take your clothes off, Steven.”

He groaned and dropped his head to her chest. “We’re due to get married… I don’t even know when, and I still haven’t given you your ring. Cut a guy a break, doll face.”

Her arms relaxed, but a pout was on her lips when he lifted his head from where it had landed.

“If I must,” she sighed, the sound long-suffering and incredibly queenly.

“Brat,” he snickered. “Sounding all prissy when it was you who sent me after _bling,_ to begin with.” Her smile appeared, full and excited, and Steve felt his heart settle when joy returned hers.

“If I say _gimme_ , will you scowl at me?” she teased.

“No, but I may call you greedy,” he chuckled and dug in his pocket for the box before getting up to sit beside her.

He clenched his fingers around the velvet when his gaze caught and hung on the locket around her neck. Steve reached for it slowly, touched the golden circle of the pendant with reverence and swallowed the emotion seeing her wearing it caused to rise in his throat. “You… like it?” The smile she gave him said everything.

“I love it. Bucky told me about it, about the one your mother had. I kind of want to think this one was hers.” A light blush coloured her cheeks when her fingers wrapped around the locket.

“With all the meddling Freyja’s been doing? I somehow wouldn’t put it past her.” He let his fingers caress the back of her hand before falling away to fiddle with the box. “So… I, uh…” Suddenly, he was dry mouthed and tongue-tied. Yes, she’d already agreed to marry him, but that didn’t seem to ease the rolling anxiety which had formed into a ball of lead in his stomach.

“Steve?” She frowned at him.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth and then over the back of his neck. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

***

You peered at him curiously, studying the sweat which had broken out on his brow and the rapid pace of his heart, and clued in quickly how nervous he was. “Stevie,” you smiled and reached for his hand. “I already said yes. This is just the icing.”

He took a deep breath and squeezed your fingers before going back to fiddling with the box. “Was… difficult to find what I wanted. Things seemed… too modern or too antique or they turned up their nose at the bands. Couldn’t find one that was what I thought was you until we stumbled on Freyja’s place. Though, now I wonder how much of a coincidence that was.” He frowned and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Saw these amazing designs and I just knew, if it wasn’t in that shop, I wasn’t going to find it.”

You were getting a little desperate with how he kept playing with it like it was a creature waiting to bite. “So… you found it?”

“She brought this out from the back and I… knew. It’s you.”

But now he was second guessing himself. “Steven.” You reached for him again and cupped his face with both hands. “Whatever you picked will be perfect because it’s from you.”

He sighed, a goofy smile curling his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You were sure yours was just as goofy. “Can I?”

A slow nod was his acceptance as he lifted the lid and set the box in your hand. The scent of gold greeted your nose, and you traced your fingers over the ring gently. Delicate, was your first thought, with a prominent round stone. “Tell me about it,” you asked him, finding the stone in the middle a mystery. There were small diamonds set like links in a chain down the band, and you knew the ring Loki had produce would match it nearly perfectly.

“I… didn’t want something as common as a diamond for you. You’re so much more than a diamond. So much more special and unique. When I saw this,” he lightly touched the box, “I just knew. The stone reminded me of your eyes. So full of mystery and magic. There’s a milky white to it, but then the light catches it, and it fires with blues and purples and the softest pink. A surprise of colour, suddenly becoming _more_ than it seems.” 

Your heart hit your throat and stuck there. You knew he meant those words about you as well. “What’s it called?” you somehow managed to force past the lump of emotion in your throat.

“A moonstone.”

A laugh escaped you as you plucked the ring from the box and held it out to him. “How fitting.”

“Why’s that?” he asked as he took the ring from your fingers.

You held out your hand. “Moonstone is the gift of lovers. It’s supposed to invoke the flames of passion between the couple forever.”

“And how would you know that?” he asked, his smile growing as he slipped the ring on the third finger of your left hand.

“Hey, I read! Well, I used to,” you smirked and cupped his cheek once the ring was situated to draw him in for a sweet, tender kiss. “It’s beautiful, Steve. I love it.”

His fingers captured yours so he could brush his thumb over your knuckles. “Even if you can’t _really_ see it?” he asked quietly, kissing your finger beneath the new adornment. 

“Who says I can’t really see it?”

“Sam,” he sighed.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, Sam’s a bit of a dumbass. I see it, Steven. Both in my own way and in the way you described it. You paint pictures with your words. I see it, and it’s perfect.”

“Good.” He breathed out in relief and leaned in to kiss you again only to have someone bang on the door.

“Oi! Punk! That’s enough tradition breaking! Get your ass out here. I’m not afraid to come get you,” Bucky warned.

“Fuck off, Barnes!” you shouted, making Steve snicker.

“Still so mouthy,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you as the door opened with a bang.

“Hey! None of that till after the wedding,” Bucky huffed, leaning against the door jam.

“When did he become the maiden aunt?” you muttered and placed a smacking kiss to Steve’s lips.

“Baby,” Steve laughed and pulled away while Bucky sputtered. “I’ll see you at the end of the aisle.”

“You’d best be waiting,” you grumbled. He stood to leave as Nat and Wanda waltzed in with garment bags.

“Loki sent us with this!” Wanda squealed, holding hers up. “He said he’d work on Steve.”

“What? Like I need work?” he scoffed.

You only smiled. “He’s likely going to explain the ceremony after cleaning you up.”

“I can clean myself up, you know,” Steve continued to grumble, making his way to the door.

“Hey, Rogers?” you called out right before the door shut.

“Darlin’?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to you shaving,” you teased, pulling at imaginary whiskers on your own chin.

He laughed and shut the door as you turned toward the girls.

“I’m getting married,” you giggled when the two of them rushed forward.

“Yes, you are!” Wanda laughed.

“Let’s see it.” Nat reached for your wrist.

“You already have!” Wanda huffed but sighed softly when her gaze fell on your ring. “Oh… he did so good!”

Laughing, you shared a group hug. “Make sure and tell him that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so nervous!”

“Captain Nerves of Steel actually flinched? I would have paid to see that,” Natasha teased. “He was so worried you wouldn’t like it.”

“He shouldn’t have been. He picked it, and his reasons why? Oh, wow,” you smiled again, sappy and ridiculously happy.

Soon, Odin and Thor would return, and then you would stand before them and exchange your vows with Steve. Happiness seemed all consuming when before only sorrow had been felt. But Steve was… Steve. He’d easily assuage your fears, your guilt, your anguish, and made you realize there was nothing you couldn’t do as long as you were together.

To the end of eternity… with him.

Giggling along with the girls, you gripped each hand tightly and bit your lip to hold back the excitement before tugging them further into the room. “I need your opinion on something.”

“What?” Natasha asked.

“It’s a surprise... for Steve,” you grinned and led them toward the tablet and what Bucky had helped pick out.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: language
> 
> Song: I Choose You by Sara Bareilles

## Chapter Twenty Eight

* * *

Steve stood in Bucky’s shower and ignored the laughter coming from behind the partially open bathroom door. Seeing as how he couldn’t use his own suite to prepare, what with (Y/N) there, he’d commandeered Buckys. Of course, this had drawn every one of the guys to his suite as well, ending up with a revolving door of people.

Thor had returned with Odin and Heimdall. T’Challa had taken to the two new Asgardians with ease, drawing them in with his charm and quiet charisma. Sam, Clint, Scott, and Tony had broken out the good liquor. Vision had been taking in everything in his way, interjecting in conversation if and when he felt like it. Bruce stuck with him, grateful for his calm, while Bucky leaned against the sink, poking at the pile of clothing Loki had provided.

The God of Mischief had gone to retrieve the sword Steve had left behind in his room but had decreed that he would return soon and Steve had best be dressed.

“You even know how to put this stuff on?” Bucky asked.

Steve glanced his way through the frosted shower glass. “I’m sure I can figure it out.” It hadn’t looked as intricate as Loki or Thor’s attire after all.

“She's gonna love the leather pants,” Bucky chuckled.

“Least we’ll be even.” Steve grinned and turned off the water. “Towel?”

Bucky threw one over the door Steve was quick to wrap around his waist. He swung the door open and stepped through to find Bucky smirking at him.

“What’s that look for, jerk?”

Bucky’s grin grew to fill his face. “Punk ass, little shit. You’re gettin’ married.”

Steve chuckled, his heart clenched and took up a swift beat, and he grinned at his image in the slightly foggy mirror. “Yeah. I am.”

“Never did I ever think… for either of us…” Bucky shook his head as his voice grew choked.

“Me either, but it’s (Y/N). She’s… everything.” The smile on his face was goofy as hell, but Steve couldn’t help it. He was happy. Really happy. Stupidly happy. Even if his wedding wasn’t quite what he’d once thought it would be.

“Hey?” Bucky nudged his arm when Steve ran his hand down his clean-shaven face. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s just… not what I expected.” Steve shrugged and grabbed his shorts off the pile of clothes, drawing them up his damp legs beneath the towel before removing it to rub over his head. Once most of the water was out of his hair, he dragged the towel down his chest, down over the heartbeat which drummed in time with his own, and frowned at the look on Bucky’s face. “What?”

“What?” Bucky smirked all the wider.

“What’s that dumbass look for?”

Bucky shrugged. “Nothing.”

Steve dried his arms and furrowed his brow, giving his friend the Captain’s glare as Natasha called it. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing!”

But he snickered, causing Steve to turn fully toward him and cross his arms, towel hanging from his clenched fist. “Liar. What do you know?”

He burst out laughing and waved a hand Steve’s direction. ‘Pal, that hard ass look of yours is way more effective when you have clothes on!”

Steve rolled his eyes and ran the towel down his legs. “Jerk. C’mon! It’s my damn wedding, and I haven’t a clue what the hell is going on.”

“You poutin’, Stevie?” Bucky teased. “I haven’t seen that face since nineteen forty.”

“Maybe,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes and taking the pants from Bucky when he handed them over.

The black leather was soft, felt like warm butter in his hands, and went up his legs with only a little sticking to his damp flesh. They were fitted but not to the point of being a second skin. Hooks and leather lacings saw the front closed. A wide band of thicker leather carved with runes acted as a belt and closed with an intricately worked buckle in silver and gold.

Bucky tossed him the long sleeved tunic, a dark blue with a wide collar of black leather laced together like lattice and a cord of braided black woven in gentle waves along the edges and around golden cabochons. Even the cuffs of the sleeves were patterned with wide bands of black leather lattice. Small gold studs appeared to hold the leather in place, and when Steve drew the fabric over his head, it settled loosely on his body.

“Damn.” Bucky shook his head.

“What?” Steve asked, smoothing down the sleeves.

Bucky handed over a belt at least three inches wide and packed with squares of beaten gold. Wolfheads in what appeared to be blackened silver sat in the center of each square, matching perfectly the heads on the ring he slipped back onto his forearm.

“You look…” His friend's blue-grey eyes were wide and filled with what appeared to be… envy.

“Is it weird?” Steve turned toward the mirror and startled. “Holy…”

“Shit, right?” Bucky grinned and punched him in the shoulder. “Damn, Stevie! You look like some badass Viking!”

“He looks like a man of Asgard,” Loki stated, appearing in the doorway. “Boots.”

He held out the knee-high creations, black again, but they had bands of deep burgundy leather which repeatedly crossed from ankle to knee.

“Different,” Steve muttered. “Socks?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Uncessassary.”

Steve eyed the sword in his opposite hand. It was (Y/N)’s. “That’s not mine.”

“How observant of you,” Loki quipped.

Steve only arched a brow. “I thought we were past this?”

A deep breath passed Loki’s lips, but he nodded slowly. “The time simply grows near. I am… anxious.”

“Why?” Bucky asked.

“Because the last three times Sváfa wed her _sjelevenn_ , she died within weeks of their nuptials.” Loki held up his hand before they could say anything in response. “This is… different. I am aware of that fact. You, Captain, are far more powerful than any of your previous incarnations. She, too, is more than she was. I cannot help but think this time, things will be different.” He turned on his heel and walked out, calling, “Come along, Captain. We are not finished with you yet.”

Steve looked at Bucky, dressed in slacks and a dress shirt. Both gave a half shrug and followed Loki out into the room where everyone was waiting. A round of good-natured catcalling and whistling came from those gathered. Steve grinned and held up his hands in surrender.

“Looking good, Cap!” Sam chuckled. “Like something off the History channel.”

“Laugh it up, Wilson.” Steve tried not to blush.

“Loki,” Odin murmured, getting to his feet with a frown. “What game are you playing?”

“No game, father. Only truth.” Loki turned and threw his hand out at Steve.

Magic swelled and rippled, raced over his chest and back, leaving behind weight and pressure when the armour settled heavily on his body. Steve gave a small grunt when it all fell into place, his shoulders and hips taking the brunt of it, and looked down at his arms. “Holy hell.”

No one spoke. Everyone stood and stared in awe. Thick burgundy leather unlike anything he’d ever seen covered his forearms, shoulders, chest, and back. When he moved his head to see the deeply carved pauldrons on his shoulders, Steve felt something soft and warm tickle the back of his neck. Fur, it seemed, though, for what purpose, ornamental or functional, he didn’t know. He brought his hands to the chest piece and drew his fingers down the front, feeling the groves and following the lines which led into the wolf made rampant on the front.

“Wow,” Steve and Bucky breathed at the same time.

“Loki!” Odin snapped, turning on his son. “How dare you!”

Steve frowned and looked at Thor who appeared as shocked as Odin and Heimdall. “What?”

Odin grabbed Loki by the collar. “Remove it at once!”

“That would be unwise,” Loki said, holding up his hands in the face of his father’s anger. “As he is Hurgid’s true heir, it is the Captain’s right to wear his armour.”

Odin’s face paled, his eye widened, then, suddenly, he was standing before Steve in armour which glowed with the light reflecting off the gold of it. “Not possible. He is of Midgard. He has never been to Asgard!”

Steve shook his head. “Freyja took me. I’ve only been back a half hour at most.”

“Freyja?” he whispered, stepping back.

“I’ve been in the tomb. I used _Randulfr_ to defeat Heðinn. I know what happened to start us down this path.” Steve slowly unbuckled the guard on his left arm and drew the ring from beneath his sleeve. “Helgi, he gave this to me.”

“Sváfa, she has _Randulfr_?” Odin asked, in a voice grown soft with sudden age.

“Father, if you drop into an Odin sleep here, I will kick your ass back to Asgard!” Thor threatened.

Odin shook himself gently. “No. No, Thor. I am fine. Simply surprised. This is unexpected, but perhaps it should not have been. The Norns have been busy with you, Captain. Hurgid was… my friend.”

“An honour, I’m sure.” Steve nodded.

“And now the famed heir happens to be a man I call a friend!” Thor walked over and pounded Steve between the shoulder blades. “Could the day be any more fortuitous?”

Surprisingly, Steve felt only half the strength of the blow against his back and wondered just what magic the leather was laced with to diffuse Thor’s power so effectively.

“So, you go into your nuptials armoured and armed?” T’Challa asked, breaking the silence as Odin continued to stare at Steve.

Loki tilted his head. “Asgardian males show their strength, their power, and their place to their bride. It is our way. As the exchange of swords is our way.”

“Dress to impress, huh?” Scott called, lifting his glass. “Looking good, Cap! Smokin’ hot. (Y/N)’s gonna swallow her tongue.”

That caused Clint and Tony to laugh, and the good-natured ribbing began again.

Steve ignored them to focus on Loki. “I think you and I better go over this ceremony. We don’t exactly exchange swords where I’m from.”

Loki threw him a wicked smirk. “That would depend on which life we were speaking of, Captain. Come along. I will explain on the way.”

Steve cast one last glance at Odin who appeared lost in thought. Perhaps he was lost in memories, ones of days long past when another had worn the armour he currently carried on his back. The weight of it suddenly seemed heavier.

***

The noise was intense in your room. All the women had gathered together to laugh and ask you questions about what to expect and traditions unique to Asgard. They’d made you blush at least a dozen times, break out in laughter double that many, and tear up once or twice.

Nakia and Shuri had gushed over your ring. Okoye had grunted, but a smile had twitched her lips right before she’d asked when she could have a go at the Valkyrie Queen? Apparently, Tony had been rather thorough in sending out the video of you kicking the _ljå’s_ ass.

Hope Van Dyne had arrived with Scott and was helping Laura wrangle the Barton brood. Wanda was touching up your makeup, Natasha had stolen some of Tony’s best champagne, Peter had tagged along with Shuri and was doing an awful lot of blushing being the only male in the vicinity.

But it was Pepper’s arrival which threw everyone into a tizzy, for walking in behind her, was Sharon.

You hadn’t seen her since the Hounds kidnaped you and stood slowly to your feet to greet Pepper. “I didn’t think you were coming?”

“I didn’t think I could make it, what with the time difference and how quickly this came about, but you know Tony. He sent a suit.”

She rolled her eyes and made you chuckle. “I’m sure the Chinese were thoroughly impressed.”

“They did take quite a few photos,” Pepper sighed. “Especially as I made the mistake of arguing with an empty suit for all of five minutes before Tony just disassembled and reassembled it around me.” She squeezed your hands. “Though I am glad I’m not missing this. Tony’s been sending me updates on all things Valkyrie while I’ve been travelling.”

“Good.” You glanced toward Sharon standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“I hope you don’t mind. I was on my way here with information for one of the others teams and, well…” She twisted her hands together, her uncertainty clear.

The insecurities you’d suffered when she’d first arrived tried to rear their ugly head, but Steve was your _sjelevenn_. Whatever he’d had with Sharon in the past didn’t matter. The two of you together, that was the future.

You stepped around Pepper and walked toward Sharon, her body growing tighter with each step until you held out your hands. “Be at ease and be welcome. I’m sure Steve will be happy to have you here. He told me about you and Eric.”

“Oh, good,” she breathed in relief and smiled.

Sweet. That’s what came to mind when you looked at Sharon. Sweet and wholesome. She would have been a good match for a man like Steve at any other point in time, but Steve was yours. The other half of your soul. There was nothing for you to fear in regards to the woman standing before you.

“I’m… a little surprised though,” Sharon continued, eyeing your outfit. “I never would have guessed he’d go for a themed wedding.”

You burst out laughing, followed swiftly by Wanda and Natasha. “Oh, man. You have no idea!”

It took twenty minutes before Sharon finally stopped saying, “You’ve got to be shitting me,” and believe the rest of them.

“So you’re an actual queen?” She stared at you with wide eyes.

“Yup.” You nodded. “But that’s okay. Steve’s a king now, so you know. It evened out.”

“What!” she shrieked.

It took another ten minutes to hash out the rest. And once you had, Sharon simply took the bottle of champagne from Nat and drank straight from it.

“You guys need to start sharing your intel,” she gasped, pressing the bottle to her cheek.

“We share what we need to.” Nat’s voice was hard, and you reached for her hand.

Natasha was one who could hold a grudge for a very long time, and Sharon had been the catalyst which had made you run what felt like a lifetime ago. Add in how Sharon was now the liaison between Shield and the CIA, and people had become a lot more closed mouth around her.

“It’s okay, Nat. This isn’t information we’ll be able to keep quiet. Not anymore. Ross knows, so it’s only a matter of time before everyone does.”

“Is that why the rush to get married? So Ross and the media don’t find out?” Sharon asked.

You shook your head. “Asgard calls. My people need me. Today is an advantageous day to wed according to Odin, so today is it.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Sharon murmured. “Congratulations to you both. I’m going to go find Steve and wish him the same.” She patted your knee and stood, wobbled slightly when the alcohol kicked in and walked away looking a little shell-shocked.

“I never liked her,” Natasha muttered. “Too perky and perfect.”

You snorted a laugh. “It’s fine, Nat.”

The redhead turned your way. Her face read as hard lines and angles. “It wasn’t fine once.”

Arching a brow, you lifted your chin. “I’m not insecure of my place in Steve’s heart anymore. Her being here doesn’t bother me.”

A smirk twitched her lips. “Good. For a second there I thought you were going to throw down when she sneered at your dress.”

“It wasn’t a sneer,” you huffed.

“It wasn’t, _ooh how pretty_ , either,” Natasha snickered.

You ran your hands down the front of your gown. It was simple, plain, nothing overly fancy. The tunic style had a ‘v’ neckline which showed off the pendant Steve had given you, highlighted by a wide collar embroidered in threads of silver and gold. The long sleeves had bands of braiding around your bicep, while silk brushed the back of your hand from the big flowing cuffs. Made of white wool, it was warm, and you were grateful for the small mercy of getting married in late fall when it was already cooler, to begin with. You wore no belt, no other finery but the ring on your one hand and the gauntlet on your other, and your hair which streamed long and loose down your back like a silk curtain.

Soon you would wear the bridal crown, but not just yet.

“Explain to me why this dress?” Pepper asked, her fingers tracing your sleeve.

“Tradition. A bride goes from her father’s home to her husband’s unadorned but for the bridal crown. It is meant to show purity, and the innocence which you bring to your union.” Natasha snorted, and you smacked her shoulder. “It's metaphorical, dumbass!”

“Oh, good. Or that dress is completely the wrong colour.”

Peter snickered from his place in the corner, and you threw a glare his way. “Watch it, puppy. I’m a lot faster than I used to be.”

“Lips zipped. Promise,” Peter nodded frantically.

“As the Queen of the Valkyrie, nothing I have but myself belongs to Steven. I go to him with nothing but my name and my heart. Therefore, I step out from the mantle of Queen to become his wife. He will never be King of the Valkyrjur. It isn’t done. None of what power I wield is his to command. So I will stand before him as only a woman. A woman who, without her crown, has nothing.”

“What about him?” Peter asked, dropping to the floor.

“Steve,” you smiled. “Let’s just say… the men of Asgard have something to prove and leave it at that.”

When Loki appeared in the doorway, your heart fluttered in anticipation. “It’s time?”

“That it is, darling.” He smiled at the rest of the women, all dressed to the nines but frowned at Peter. “What _are_ you wearing?”

“What?” the boy asked, slinking in on himself. “It was last minute!” And he was still in his everyday school clothes.

“One would think Stark would take better care of his pet,” Loki huffed and flicked his wrist.

“Hey! I’m not a pet-”

You could smell his magic sizzle through the air, then Peter gasped, and you couldn’t help but giggle when the magic faded. He was dressed in a similar style to Loki and Thor. A tunic with a wide belt over tight breeks and high boots.

Loki chuckled. “There. Now you appear to belong in an Asgardian wedding.”

“Holy… holy shit!”

“Peter! Language,” Pepper scolded, motioning toward Laura’s kids.

“Sorry!” he squeaked, dragging his hands down the front of the tunic. “This is just… so cool!”

“Well, proper attire is required if you are to fulfill your duties.”

He gaped at Loki before sputtering, “Me? What duties?”

“The handfasting cord,” you said. “It is the job for the youngest of Steve’s family.”

Peter flushed, the colour burning high in his face at being called family. “But… Shuri is younger.”

You smiled at him and shook your head. “I should have said the male closest to being labelled a man. This is a great honour and responsibility if you’re up to it?”

He stood straighter and nodded. “I am.”

“Good.” You held out your hand for him, leaned in, and kissed his cheek when he took it. “Go with Loki. He’ll give you instructions.”

Peter’s entire face was red, but he grinned broadly and headed for the door where Loki was leaning. The boy glanced at him, and you could read Peter’s nervousness when it came to being around the once villainous God of Mischief.

“ _Oppfør deg, ugagn._ ” You warned Loki to behave himself.

“ _Du ødelegger all min moro, lillesøster_ ,” he pouted.

“I don’t ruin _all_ your fun,” you teased.

“Just most of it,” he quipped, smirking as he dropped his hand on Peter's shoulder and led the boy out the door. “Come along, ladies. Barton will be here to collect (Y/N) any moment.”

“Clint is going to carry the sword?” you asked in surprise.

“He is the closest to kin you have in this world besides myself and Thor. I thought he would suffice.”

“More than suffice,” you agreed, “as long as Laura doesn’t mind me stealing her husband for a few minutes?”

“As long as you promise to give him back,” she laughed, herding the kids before her out the door.

“ _Lillesøster_ ,” Loki said, standing in the hallway, looking back at you alone in the suite you shared with Steve, your soon to be husband. “I will see you before the fire. May the Norns bless you this day.”

“Loki,” you whispered, tears burning your eyes. “I love you.”

“Such sentiment,” he crooned. “ _Jeg elsker deg, også_.”

You waved him away, well aware he would never admit to his own sentiment in a language other people could understand. Alone now, your nerves bubbled to the surface. A bride’s nerves. A woman’s nerves.

A host of _what_ _if’s_ ran through your head. What if he hated how you looked when arrived? Sharon’s words, though harmless and meant without malice, had niggled their way into your brain and burrowed deep. A little sigh escaped your lips.

You were being foolish. After all, you still had your own surprise planned for Steve. One Bucky had approved, the girls had agreed would blow his mind, and Loki was willing to assist you with.

Even if the ceremony wasn’t exactly what he expected, you were pretty sure he’d enjoy the reception. And, knowing Loki as well as you did, you could only imagine the chaos he’d caused and what attire he’d put Steve in.

You couldn’t wait to see what he looked like. Just the thought sent a rush of heat south.

“Brat?”

You turned to see Clint in the doorway. “Feathers.”

“Loki said something about you needing someone to pack a sword?” He stepped through the door and whistled. “Wow. Not what I was expecting but damn. You clean up nice.”

“Yeah?” you asked, running your hands over your waist, careful of the talons on your right hand. “I know it’s all about the dress and the hair and I… I don’t…”

“Hey.” His strides carried him forward until he could take your hands with his. “You look drop dead gorgeous. Steve is going to swallow his tongue, though… you may have your own moment when you see the getup Loki put him in. Wowza!”

“That good, huh?” you giggled, excitement beginning to replace your nerves.

“He looks like he stepped off some ship from the tenth century except for the fact it’s all a lot more… Asgardian looking. Less rough. More regal.” He held your hands out away from your body and whistled a second time. “But you, brat? You look like a bride fit to stand at his side.”

“Stop. Now you’re just stroking my ego,” you teased and pointed at the silver circlet sitting on the coffee table. “Help me with that?”

Clint picked it up and gave it a spin between his palms. “Pretty fancy. Figured you’d be wearing your crown there, majesty.”

You rolled your eyes and poked him in his suit covered ribs. “Can’t. Technically I go to Steve with nothing but my name. My queendom is not his, will never be his, and I am but a lowly pauper without it.”

“Not quite. You've got all of us. And you’re an Avenger. That’s something.” He lifted the bridal crown and placed it down over your brow and hair, centring the large stone on your forehead. Then, he dug in his pocket. “You have all the bases covered except one. Something old.” He touched the sleeve of your dress. “Something new.” The ring which rested on your left hand. “Something borrowed.” Clint brushed his finger down the stone in the center of your forehead before booping you on the nose. “But what about blue?”

He held out a soft fabric item, and you nearly blushed. “Is that a garter?”

“Yup!” he snickered at what was likely the look on your face. “It was Laura’s. We figured you might not have one with the short notice rush, and seeing as how we’ve been married happily for some years, one could theorize it’s good luck.”

“Theorize? You’ve been hanging out with Bruce again, haven’t you?” you asked, giggling as you took it from him. “Thanks, Clint. To both of you. It’s just what I needed.”

You sat to pull your dress up, and he turned around. “Now you’re a gentleman? Dude, you’ve seen me in yoga shorts and a sports bra!”

“It’s different now!” he barked.

“Why? Cause I’m getting married?”

“Well, yeah. And to Cap.”

“So you don’t want to be on the receiving end of a Cap scowl when he finds out you ogled my thigh?”

“You are a brat!” he huffed, but there was a grin in his voice. “And I’m happily married. The only thighs I ogle are Laura’s.”

“And Bucky’s,” you snickered.

“That was one time, and I was really drunk!” he whined. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Nope!” you laughed, getting up to hug him from the back, arms tight around his waist. “I love you, Clint.”

“Aww, now why’d you have to go and say that?” he asked as the scent of wet salt assaulted your nose.

“Because it’s true.” You let go so he could turn and smiled when he cupped your face.

“You’re like an annoying little sister, you know that right?” he grumbled and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I know. That’s why you get to carry Steve’s sword.”

“Huh?” He gaped at you like a confused puppy, making you giggle.

“I’ll explain on the way. Come on, bro!” You leaned in for one more hug before releasing him to take the first steps toward the man who’d been your husband many times before and who you hoped would be many more times in the future.

Fates willing.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Language and drama
> 
> Song: Marry Me by Train

## Chapter Twenty Nine

* * *

Steve still couldn’t believe what his eyes were showing him. Loki had gone all out to make the day special for (Y/N) though how much of it she would see was, well, yet to be seen.

It was out in the forest, but where once pine trees and slightly stumpy maples had lined the roughly honed path of hundreds of feet which had traversed the distance between the main compound and the bunker, now giant redwoods had replaced the scraggly trees towering above a wide gravel path. Lanterns glowed beneath the limbs of the lowest branches, hung along with garlands of small white flowers.

Everything looked… magical, like something out of fairytale world.

“Wow…”

Steve turned to smile at Peter and chuckled when he saw the teen. “Well, look at you.”

The boy’s eyes were enormous. “Me? Look at you!” Peter reached out to touch, only to pull his hand back. “Wow.”

“Go ahead,” Steve encouraged, holding out his arm.

Peter instantly clamped on, following the path of winding knots engraved on the bracer.

“This is so cool,” Peter breathed.

Steve ruffled his hair and looked at Loki. “What’s with the kid’s getup?”

“He will stand as the bearer of the handfasting cord. Traditionally, it is carried by the boy of your family who is closest to becoming a man. (Y/N) assured me Peter is family.” Loki motioned for them to continue down the path.

Steve looked at Peter who stood with his hands twisting together and head lowered. His heart beat faster than usual and a sheen of sweat had appeared on his brow. “Peter? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to!” Peter yelped, then flushed red. “If… if that’s… okay?”

“Yeah, kid.” Steve gently bounced his fist on Peter’s shoulder. “That would be great. Though I’m not sure what it is you’re doing.”

“I will explain once we are moving.” Loki shooed the group of them forward.

The others had headed on while Steve had waited for Loki to return at the head of the path. He’d gone to check on (Y/N) a final time, and apparently, pick up Peter.

Hemme had come to visit, and Steve had stepped off the path and into the forest, out of view as a hoard of well-dressed people had tramped by, laughing and excited. He'd paid them no mind and no one had noticed him in the deep shadows with the big black stallion.

“So?” Steve asked, heading into the forest with Peter between himself and Loki.

“Asgardian ceremonies are… extravagant. They are held in the open to allow the Norns the best opportunity to bear witness, and while I’m certain you think I have gone… overboard, I assure you I have not. This is rather tame.” He waved his hand at the trees. “You and (Y/N) will stand before the fire, speak your heart to each other beneath the boughs of the willow arch; then Thor will begin the binding.”

“And what is the binding?” Peter asked.

“This,” Loki waved his hand, and a cord of braided lengths of white ribbons, golden threads, and sparkling gems appeared draped over his palm, “is the handfasting cord. During the ceremony, Peter will stand with me, and when Thor begins the binding, you will present it to him. While on Earth handfasting is simply a symbol, an act they go through to present a union, for us it is quite different. And permanent.”

“Permanent?” Steve asked.

Loki cast him an indignant look. “As your bond with Sváfa is already quite permanent, this should not be an issue for you, Captain.”

“Isn’t. Just curious.”

“Hm. On Asgard, those of us who live long lives usually wait to find our one before committing ourselves to matrimony. The person meant to be with us throughout our years. When this happens, we handfast. It creates a bond unbreakable, increasing the affection we hold for one another, so the centuries together do not become stagnant.”

“Cool,” Peter piped up. “So they’re like, what? You’re soulmate?”

“Yes.”

“That’s really neat.” Peter looked up in awe.

“It is our way,” Loki murmured, returning his focus to Steve. “Thor will call for the cord at which time he will have you and (Y/N) join hands. He will ask you certain question to which you need only answer him with the words we will. The ceremony is not difficult. Just follow instructions and (Y/N)’s lead. You will be fine.”

“We’re not sacrificing a goat,” Steve muttered.

Loki snickered. “Father is quite put out by that fact, though it is more a Midgardian tradition or for the people of our realm than a godly one.”

They’d made it further into the forest and Steve admired the bridge which had been built to span the small ditch before the turn toward the bunker. Through the now redwood forest, he should have been able to see the old bunker they used for training, but it had disappeared, replaced by what looked like the ruins of an old stone church. Large peaked windows, ornate cornices, and heavy, ancient stones which stood behind rows of glowing mini lights, hung like a waterfall of sparkle in front of them, each strand wrapped in more of the small white flowers.

Once they rounded the corner, he stopped to stare. Awe filled him for the stage set was incredible. There were no pews per say, but fur covered daybeds piled with pillows. Members of the staff had gathered in groups of twos and threes, some with cups in hand which steamed slightly into the air. Others were milling still, checking out the decorations — some taking pictures.

Steve glanced at Tony who winked, letting him no there would be no accidental posts to social media. Likely the tech genius had something in place to keep the news from getting out. That was fine by Steve. He’d rather the news didn’t break until _after_ he and (Y/N) were away.

Tony had already decreed he would be sending them on their honeymoon, to a location of _his_ choice, and no, they were not allowed to know where they were going. Natasha and Wanda would pack a bag for (Y/N), while Bucky had taken care of Steve’s.

Returning his attention to the front, he marvelled at the wicker arbour standing sentinel over an ornate rug surrounded by a ring of flowers and a few flickering candles, placed just beyond a large fire pit of beaten copper with logs already lit and burning.

Odin broke away from where he waited with Thor and Heimdall to traverse the winding aisle and approach Steve’s small group. “If we are ready to begin, I will return for Sváfa.” Without waiting for agreement, he walked away.

Steve looked at Loki. “I get the distinct impression he doesn’t like me much.”

“It is less that he dislikes you and more that he his… disconcerted by your newfound title,” Loki murmured. “Come.” He motioned toward the front where the team waited.

“Damn, Cap!” Grant called out, grinning where he sat huddled with Faye. “Looking badass!”

“Who knew you could pull off the Viking thing so good!” Sammy yelled. “Wowza!!”

Whistling and thunderous applause turned his ears red, but he took it all with a good-natured grin and raised hands. Wanda and Natasha both poked at his chest and ribs. He hugged Pepper and welcomed her back. Accepted the teasing of Shuri, the soft smile of Nakia, and the smug grin of Okoye. He crouched to speak with Laura and Clint’s kids and blushed a little harder when Laura asked if he had any more armour he’d like to lend Clint.

But it was the person rising from the seat beside Sam who froze his blood. “Sharon?”

“Hey, Steve.” She gaped at him, mouth open in clear disbelief.

“Uh, what… what are you doing here?” he asked, stepping to the side and away from the people who were trying to look like they weren’t eavesdropping, and Natasha who didn’t bother to try and hide her displeasure at all. “Does (Y/N) know you’re here?”

“Yeah,” Sharon assured him, unable to pull her eyes away from his armour. “Wow. I… just… wow.” Her hand fluttered toward him, but she pulled it back before it landed.

“Yeah,” Steve laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Little different.”

She finally lifted her gaze to his, worry on her face. “Steve, is this what you want? Are you sure? It's only been a few months and-”

Steve held up his hand, cutting her off. “Don’t. She’s my world, Sharon. There is so much you don’t know or understand, but this? Yes, it's not exactly what I would have expected, but I love her.”

“They all told me. But, Steve! It all seems so fantastical! She’s some Valkyrie Queen? You’re some long-lost heir to some Asgardian kingdom? What the hell, Steven?”

It was odd but having her use his full name felt… wrong. Like he was being scolded by someone who no longer had that right. Like she was stepping into space which no longer belonged to her, but only to (Y/N). “Look, Sharon. I appreciate your concern, but this is my choice. She’s my soulmate. We live lives together! I met one. Myself in our first life together and it was like seeing my twin! It may sound like some fairy tale but its real. All of it.”

“So you believe she’s some Valkyrie Queen? She’s got you all believing it. What if it’s…” she glanced toward Loki and lowered her voice. “A trick?”

He straightened to his full height, anger furrowing his brow. “Don’t ever question her again. She’s exactly what she says she is. And if you’d been here this morning when nine wings of Valkyries rode in on their Pegasi from a tear in space, you wouldn’t be asking me these questions.”

“Pegasi?” she snorted. “Horses with wings? You expect me to believe there are horses with wings?”

Steve lifted his hand and pointed over her shoulder. “His name is Hemme, and he belongs to my girl.”

Sharon glanced over her shoulder, did a double take, and turned all the way around to stare at the big black loitering in the trees munching on ferns. “Ho… holy… wow,” she whispered.

“Still think we’re delusional?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t bother to mention the mission they’d gone on with (Y/N), the panels they’d found in the mountain stronghold or the alien creature whose ass she’d kicked.

“Okay, I’ll… I’ll give you that one.” She turned around to study him for a long moment. “But, Steve… are you sure, really and truly sure this is what you want? You’ve only ever had two girlfriends, and Aunt Peggy was-”

“I think you should go, Sharon,” Steve cut her off. “If you can’t be happy for me and (Y/N), if you can’t wish us well, then you should go.”

“She was your first love, Steve.”

“Sváfa was my first love. My true love. And she’s been my wife more than once. Yeah, I loved Peggy, but what I feel for (Y/N)... it's like comparing a candle to the moon. No one outshines my _sjelevenn_.”

She stiffened, shock washing over her features. “You… but you… you said you’d never love anyone as much as you loved Peggy.”

“I was wrong.”

The colour bled from her face. “Wow. I never saw this coming when we broke up, and I encouraged you to go after her.”

Steve didn’t know what to make of that statement. “I’m happy you did, but it was (Y/N) who finally confessed to me, not the other way around. Besides, you’re engaged to Eric. What should it matter if I marry my girl?”

“Eric and I... aren’t,” she whispered.

“Excuse me?” Steve asked.

“After… after (Y/N) was rescued and back for a few weeks, Eric and I, we had a falling out. He said I was too focused on… on you.”

“Jesus, Sharon!” Steve hissed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“You were… busy. With her.” She shrugged dismissively, but Steve couldn’t help but hear the kernel of jealousy in the words. “Anytime we talked, you were full of news about her and her progress. How she was adjusting to being blind. How great she was doing. Even now I can’t believe how _not_ blind she appeared. Other than those eyes.”

He knew his girl’s eyes bothered people, but when Sharon shuddered, he turned away to take in his surroundings. The stern look on Bucky’s face, the hard visage of Natasha, and the anger of Tony’s only helped firm his resolve. This was out of line. “Look, Sharon…”

“He wasn’t wrong, Steve.”

He closed his eyes, having been desperately hoping she wasn’t going to go there. “Please, don’t do this. We’ve been done more than a year. We drifted apart, and dammit, Sharon!” He spun back to face her. “I’m getting married! Nothing will change that! _Nothing_!”

“Okay, time for you to go.” Natasha appeared at his elbow, her dress a full-length black number with a thigh-high slit. A thick shawl of bright blue draped around her shoulders was meant to keep off the chill of this fall evening. “I think you’ve caused enough chaos for the bride and groom. Was that your real purpose here? Stir things up and try to stop the ceremony? How did you find out about Steve and (Y/N)’s wedding?”

Sharon looked shocked and took a step back. “I… what? I was delivering intel on an upcoming mission. I had no idea this was taking place!”

“Old intel. Intel which had already been delivered by another courier,” Tony said, sauntering over in an immaculate three-piece suit. “You know, I couldn’t figure it out; how Ross was getting his intel. It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but I finally got it. Thanks for that. You’re arrival made the lightbulb burn.”

“Tony? What are you talking about?” Steve asked.

“Little Miss Perky isn’t at fault, but her boy toy likely is. You talk to her, Cap. Why wouldn’t you? Things ended amicably, and you’ve remained friendly. I bet you’ve told her a few things, but we wouldn’t have flagged your calls. Why would we? There was no way you were spilling Avenger secrets. You never even named names, I’m sure, when it came to our… special guests, but Eric? Now, he had no loyalty to the Avengers and was, likely, smart enough to figure out just what was happening here, so it doesn’t surprise me he sold us out to Ross. Pretty smart, actually. What better way to know what’s happening within the walls of the compound then by spying on the one person with inside access who didn’t live on site.”

Steve gaped at Tony before scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “Son of a bitch,” Steve swore.

“You kiss your girl with that mouth, Rogers?” Fury asked, striding down the aisle to take a seat beside Maria.

“Good to see you made it,” Steve nodded, but his mind was reeling. All this time. His casual conversations with someone he trusted, that was the reason Ross knew what was happening.  

“And (Y/N)’s mouth is worse,” Natasha snickered.

“I’ll kill him!” Sharon snapped. “I’m gonna _murder_ him!”

“Who sent you here today, Sharon?” Steve asked.

“My boss. He just said the intel needed to be delivered. That it was time sensitive, and I shouldn’t delay.”

“Phone.” Tony held out his hand. Sharon instantly handed it over, and Tony passed his watch over it. “As I thought. It’s transmitting. Luckily, I’ve had this place on lockdown since Cap proposed. You would have gone radio silent the moment you entered the grounds. Still. FRIDAY, darling?”

“Yes, boss?”

“Best set a perimeter warning. Don’t need any unwanted guests,” Tony muttered.

“But how’d they know to send her today?” Steve asked.

Tony had been clicking away on his phone and sighed. “Your discretion in the city didn’t quite cut it. Some intrepid Twitter follower saw you coming out of the back door at Tiffany and Company and followed you to Cartier. Speculation is running rampant, especially with this image.”

He turned the phone so that Steve could see it. They’d caught him coming out of Freyja’s place, looking stupidly happy with the small box in hand.

“Dammit!” He couldn’t catch a break.

“Steve, I’m so sorry,” Sharon said, her tone ringing sincerity.

“There’s enough blame to go around. You don’t need to take it all on yourself,” Steve assured her. “But maybe you should still go.”

“Too late,” Bucky muttered, peering through the trees before turning cold eyes to Sharon. “Sit and keep your opinions to yourself. (Y/N)’s on her way.”

Sharon nodded, looking contrite, but Steve couldn’t think about all this right now. No matter what she’d had to say, it would have made little difference. (Y/N) was his heart and soul. He wanted nothing more than to marry her and spend as many lives with her as possible.

“Captain,” Thor called, motioning for him to come forward to where the fire burned. “Wait here. Friends!” He waved their immediate teammates to stand in a circle around the arbour. “We invite all who are here to bear witness to this joyous occasion, but I ask those Steve and (Y/N) call family to gather close and become part of the ceremony.”

Bucky came to stand at his side, giving Steve a wink while holding (Y/N)’s sword.

“Buck,” Steve murmured.

Bucky shook his head. “She didn't know her Aunt that well if she thinks Peggy wouldn't be over the moon happy for you, Steve.”

Steve nodded, appreciating the sentiment.  “I don't ever want (Y/N) thinking she's _less_ in my eyes. Sharon did that once. I won't let it happen again.”

“That’s good, cause here she comes, and I’m pretty sure if she thought you’d changed your mind, she’d stab you with your own sword,” Bucky chuckled as the guests got to their feet.

“I’d walk through Hell for her. I don't have any doubts about where she belongs, or where I belong. Even if that means standing behind her throne in Asgard.” Steve stood a little taller, able to make out Clint leading the way with his sword stretched across Clint’s palms.

Loki had explained that the exchange of swords was basically a promise. By Sváfa giving up her most powerful weapon, _Glemsel_ , she was announcing her complete trust and faith in Steve’s ability to protect and provide for her. Her sword was an extension of herself, and without it, she was easy prey for her enemies.

By keeping Steve’s sword, _Randulfr_ , with her, it was Steve’s way of providing his protection even though he was not present. None would dare go against her for she was not helpless because he had provided his most powerful protection to her, for her use, until they met again.

Before the fire they would meet, the blades would be laid bare and returned to their owners. Held in trust, they were exchanged with great reverence, showing the care and esteem each held for the other. Giving back a damaged sword, unless needed in battle, was considered disrespectful and had, more than once, ended a wedding before it began. The transfer of his sword back to him also symbolized the acknowledgment that he was now responsible for the guardianship and protection of his new bride, while his return of her sword let her know he had absolute faith and trust in her ability to protect herself, their home, and future children. It was a balance, a partnership, and a give and take. One was no better than the other but moved forward from their marriage as a unit.

While he may think it odd, their traditions a little archaic, they were also beautiful in a violent - potentially stabby - kind of way, and he’d charged Bucky with taking the utmost care with (Y/N)’s sword.

Clint’s eyes widened as he took in the setting before shooting his kids a wink when Lila called out, “Hi, Dad!” She made the gathered guests chuckle, and Steve smiled fondly at her.

Thor tilted his head, and Clint followed his meaning, moving to the side to wait, but Steve only had eyes for (Y/N).

His breath caught, and the burn of tears had him sinking his teeth into his cheek. She looked beautiful. Her dress was such a pure white it seemed to glow in the low light. Her long sleeves swung with each step. The neckline highlighted her locket, causing him to choke up even further. There was a bouquet in her arm of more white flowers, stalks of wheat, and sprigs of lavender, the stems wrapped in a ribbon whose ends glittered with crystals.

More crystals gleamed in the silver crown upon her brow, some clear while others were the same milk white as the moonstone in her ring. She looked ethereal, and when she stepped beyond the shadow of the trees on Odin’s arm, Steve could no longer hold back the little gasp of breath or the tear which escaped his eye.

“Friends,” Thor intoned. “We stand before these flames meant to symbolize those of Valhalla, and call upon the Norns to bear witness to this man and this woman who choose this night to be joined together and live as husband and wife.” He took (Y/N)’s hand from Odin. The All-father kissed her cheek and moved off to stand with Loki and Peter - whose hands now held the handfasting cord.

Steve turned to face his girl, her smile wide and cheeks lightly pink. Her heart beat beside his, happy and excited and so full of joy.

“Steven.” Thor held out (Y/N)’s hand. “Join your hand with (Y/N)’s and pass them over the fire as you join me beneath the brambles.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, simply reached out and took her hand from Thor’s, allowing the Asgardian to move away to step beneath the arbour.

Before taking another step, Steve bent toward her and whispered, “You look beautiful, _min vakre skjoldpike_.”

***

You smiled, heart full to bursting. “You look…” The fire crackled and sparked beside you, the heat helping to highlight his beautiful armour. “Incredible.” And you wanted to touch every inch of him.

He chuckled softly before catching the point of your sleeve and folding it up over your arm. “You lead, sweetheart. I’ll follow you.”

You were fairly certain if you smiled any wider your face would cramp, but you gave him a wink and nudged him toward his side of the brazier. You stepped to yours and with outstretched arms, you let the heat of the fire lick at your joined hands while you made your way toward Thor.

“May the flames of Valhalla bless you, keep you warm, and light fires of passion forevermore in your hearts for each other,” Thor spoke as you moved beyond the fire to stand with him in the circle of protection beneath the wooden arbour. “Bring the swords.” He motioned to Clint and Bucky. “Captain, draw the sword, and if (Y/N) finds you worthy, we shall continue.”

Steve turned toward Bucky who held the sword out so he could draw it smoothly from its sheath and present it over his palms to you. “Not a scratch.”

Handing your bouquet to Wanda, you wrapped your hand around the hilt. _Glemsel_ greeted you, humming with power, and you took your fingers down the blade. “Thank you for your care, _sjelevenn_.” Bucky handed over your sheath, and you returned your sword to it before passing it off to Natasha.

“(Y/N),” Thor murmured. “You’re up.”

Clint stepped forward, and you closed your hand around the hilt of _Randulfr_. The power which raced up your arm had you breathing out in shock as you drew it forth and held it out to Steve. “Wow. That’s… intense.”

He chuckled softly and took it from your hands. You weren’t sure what the others saw, but there was a loud gasp from the group at large. To you, Steve appeared to glow, more in keeping with Thor or Loki or Odin, strong and powerful with a very bright soul.

“Perfect. Just like you,” Steve murmured.

Wanda awed, and Clint snickered but turned over the sheath to Steve. He handed it off to Bucky when Thor motioned for him to wait and took the weapon from him. Much of Steve’s glow diminished with its removal.

“The rings, Captain?”

Sam swiftly dug into his pocket and dropped them into Steve’s open hand. Steve gave them to Thor, who set them on the hilt of the blade.

“Consecrated on this blade, we emphasize the sacredness of the compact between man and wife and the binding nature of the oath which they take together. Captain, take up (Y/N)’s ring and speak the vows from your heart.”

Steve picked the ring from the blade, took your hand, and began to slide it up your finger. “(Y/N). Today, I take you to be my partner, my one true love, and my wife. I promise to encourage you and inspire you, to love you truly through good times and bad. I will be there to laugh with you and to lift you up when you’re down. I will love you unconditionally through all of our adventures in this life and all the ones to come. You talk about being my shield, but I’m gonna stand as your sword. Whatever comes, you’ll never be alone because I am always with you.”

You tried hard not to cry, you really did, but at least one tear slipped out to trickle down your cheek. “Oh, Stevie…”

“Baby.” He cupped your cheek and brushed the tear from it.

“(Y/N).” Thor shifted the blade toward you.

Picking Steve’s ring from the hilt, your fingers shook a little when you took his hand and slipped the ring on his finger. “Steven… I always thought it would be difficult to find someone who’d love me when I felt… so plain. Then, everything changed, and I lost my way for a while, got a little scattered. It was like trying to complete a puzzle when the pieces were the wrong size. But then there was you, and you showed me every piece didn’t have to be perfect to create something beautiful. You showed me that love could exist in the most imperfect, lost, broken person. You lift me up. You stand with me. You’re my heart and my soul, and I love you, so damn much. I need you like I need air.” Continuing to hold his hand, you reached up with the other and set it on his wet cheek. “ _Alt jeg har, alt det jeg er, alt jeg vil være, er din. For alltid_. All I have, all I am, all I want to be, is yours. Forever.”

His face softened when he smiled and swallowed thickly. “ _Sjelevenn_.”

“Forever, Steven,” you affirmed.

He leaned down to kiss you only to have Thor clear his throat.

“Patience, Captain,” he chuckled, sheathing the sword and returning it to Bucky. “Peter.”

The boy practically jumped the distance to Thor’s side and thrust the cord outward. You winked at him, causing heat to rise in his cheeks.

“Thank you, Peter. You may step back.” Thor looked at you both, then out at those gathered. “We begin the binding. In this, gathered friends, I invite you to witness as two are made one, in love and life, for better or worse, where not even death shall part them. As Steve and (Y/N) go through this life together, I bid you remind them of their oath here today if trouble should brew between them. Join your left hands.”

Steve gently took your hand in his. His smile soft. His hand warm.

“Steven and (Y/N), I bid you look at each other. Will you honour and respect one another, and seek to never break that honour?”

“We will,” the two of you agreed, and Thor draped the cord over your joined hands.

“And so the first binding is made. Will you share each other’s pain and seek to ease it?”

“We will.”

He crossed the cord beneath your hands, brought it up, and draped it over them again. “And so the binding is made. Will you share the burdens of each other so your spirits may grow in this union?”

“We will.” The cord made another round, this time draping each wrist.

“And so the binding is made. Will you share each other’s laughter, and look for the brightness in life and the best in each other?”

“We will,” you agreed, and Thor wrapped the cords the final time.

“And so the binding is made.” He tied the cords together and cupped your joined hands between his own. “(Y/N) and Steve, as your hands are bound together now, so your lives and spirits are joined in a union of love and trust. Above you are the stars and below you is the earth. Like the stars, your love should be a constant source of light, and like the earth, a firm foundation from which to grow. Today and each day forward, may you be a symbol of love to each other and the world.”

With his final word, lightning licked over your joined fists, and as you’d done this before, you knew a golden glow would radiate from between his palms as the binding took place.

Steve’s fingers squeezed yours and love overflowed your heart.

“Friends! I bid you join me in congratulations for this couple, now joined forevermore, as they have given me the honour of presenting them to you for the first time. Steven and (Y/N) Rogers, King of Sváfaland and Queen of the Valkyrjur! Captain! Feel free to kiss your bride!”

Hands still bound together, Steve dragged you toward him, sank his hand into your hair and closed his mouth over yours.

The cheers and whistling faded into nothing when the steady beating of Steve’s heart took over your ears. It thudded in time with yours. Even with his armour hard against your chest, you could feel it, beating, full of love and devotion and unending desire.

You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck; your joined hands held tight to your belly. Getting enough of his mouth was impossible. The taste which was all Cap, a combination of minty toothpaste and heady spice, and something which bespoke a will that could move mountains, slid over your tongue when you took the kiss deeper and licked his bottom lip.

He made a noise like a tiger purring and sank in, dragged you higher against him until you lifted up on your toes. And time stood still for one brief moment when air became necessary for life, and your mouths parted only enough to breathe together, moist puffs of air whispering over plump, wet lips.

Foreheads touching, Steve shifted his hand to your cheek. “You’re mine now.”

“I’ve always been yours,” you whispered and nipped your teeth into his full lower lip. “And I’ll be yours until the end of time.”

The loud clearing of at least three throats finally broke you apart.

“If you two are done sucking face, there’s a party to be had,” Sam laughed and bumped hips with Bruce.

“Yeah, brat. Save that for the honeymoon,” Clint teased.

“Small people watching. You’d best keep it clean,” Bucky snickered.

“Just because I’m wearing a dress, doesn’t mean I can’t kick all of your asses,” you warned.

Thor belted out a laugh. “Come, everyone! Let us _feast_!” More cheering erupted.

Loki moved closer, but you shot him a smile. “Could Steve and I have a moment?”

Happy smiles and laughter along with good-natured ribbing filled the air, but people started making their exit, following Tony away from the ceremony space back toward the compound. But when Bucky and Natasha made their way toward Sharon and quick marched her away, you frowned.

“I will wait for you down the path, (Y/N),” Loki murmured, stepping forward to kiss your cheek before walking away.

“Thank you, Loki. Thor. All-father.” You smiled at the lot.

“Daughter,” Odin said, taking your hands. “You look lovely. Frigga would be pleased.” He looked at Steve and finally held out his hand. “You wear Hurgid’s armour well.”

“Thank you, sir,” Steve murmured, gripping his wrist.

“Congratulations, Sváfa,” Heimdall murmured, also kissing your cheek. “Ravishing, as always.”

“Heimdall, you flatter me,” you chuckled. “I’ll take it.”

He belted out a laugh and encouraged Odin away allowing you and Steve a moment alone.

“Can we take this off now?” Steve asked, holding up your tied fists.

“Yeah.” You tugged one end loosening the rope.

Steve caught it when it started to slide and wrapped it around your waist, turning it into a belt and making you giggle. “That’s improper use of a handfasting cord.”

“Matches your outfit.” He took you by the waist and just held you. “You do look… incredible.”

“I know it’s not what you expected and that this whole ceremony isn’t traditional-”

He succeeded in stopping your words with a well-timed kiss. “Baby, I wouldn’t have cared if we got married in an alley. All I want is you.”

“Steve,” you sighed and melted. “You’re too good.”

“Only when I want to be, _Mrs. Rogers_.”

“That’s going to take some getting used to.” You brought your hands to his chest and stroked the heavy armour. “You really do make this look good. I love your work suits, but this. Steve, you look enormous. So big and strong. It’s just… amazing.”

“Gave Odin a shock.”

“I bet,” you murmured, continuing to touch him. “I want to peel you out of this.”

“Does it turn you on?” he teased.

You lifted your head and smiled at him. “You have no idea.” You wanted to climb him like a tree.

His hands went to your ass and jerked you in tight. “I could find out.”

“Mmm, I would say yes, but there’s no time. Loki is waiting because I have a surprise for you.” You turned toward the fire and gave a quiet sigh. “I do wish I could see this. I’m getting images, shapes of things. I can see this,” you touched the arbour, “and feel the fire burning. I know there are couches set up for the guests and I can smell mulled wine and spiced mead. But… I miss the colours.”

Steve stepped into your spine and held you close, his head tucking down on your shoulder. “Everything is shades of green, brown, and red. The redwoods are so tall they blot out the sky except for directly above us. There are garlands of white flowers strewn everywhere, even cascading like a waterfall behind us, braided together with small twinkle lights. The fire glows in reds and oranges against the copper bowl, and more flames flicker in the wrought iron lanterns hanging in the trees.”

“And you?” you asked, able to picture it now with his voice low in your ear.

“The armour is burgundy, a deep rich red, and there is a brindled fur collar. Dark leather pants, boots that match the armour, and a tunic in blue and black.”

“Sexy,” you purred, and he laughed.

“Not as sexy as you. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered against your cheek. “I want my mark, baby.”

The words caused a clench to hit your womb. “Tonight. I promise.”

“You’d better. Should we join the others?” he asked as the moon crested the tops of the trees. Then, he gasped. “(Y/N)!”

“What?”

“The stones… they’re… glowing!”

You laughed softly and touched the crown. “I’m not surprised. They were from the Elves, and the Valley of the Veil on Álfheim Loki said. The light elves were quite tied to the moon, and their stones tended to retain their light.”

“But… your ring glows too.”

You held out your hand and could feel the magic pulse. “Freyja, what tricks are you playing?”

“No tricks, darling,” Loki said, appearing out of nowhere. “It is but an Elven Moonstone like those in mother’s bridal crown. They strengthen the bonds of love and passion. Freyja has been doing everything in her power, so it seems, to make certain you and your _sjelevenn_ are unable to be torn asunder. The bond you share has become as unbreakable as the metal of Mjolnir.”

“That she’s gone to such lengths… worries me,” you murmured.

“Whatever comes, together, baby. Always together,” Steve promised.

“Are you ready, darling?” Loki asked.

“Ready for what?” Steve frowned.

“I did say I had a surprise for you,” you murmured and stepped backward out of his arms. “I know this day didn’t go quite as it should. It wasn’t what you expected, but you indulged my traditions.”

“Sweetheart, we discussed this already. I’m fine with it.”

“I’m not.” You lifted your chin. “You deserve every chance at happiness because tonight is about the two of us. I can’t give you a church wedding, not now. If you want one in the future, I’m happy to do this again. The one thing I can give you is a piece of the past. Bucky helped me find it, pick something he thought you’d like so if it’s hideous, blame him. But this, Steve. This is my gift to you with the help of our friends.” You nodded to Loki and felt the magic swell around you.

When it ended, you stood to wait for his reaction.

“Holy… shit,” Steve swore.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: smut, swearing, NSFW, fluff 
> 
> Songs: I Choose You by Sara Bareilles, At Last by Etta James

## Chapter Thirty

* * *

Steve could only stare in utter shock and awe at the vision before him and swallowed the thick lump of emotion threatening to choke him. “I… that’s… I…”

She pressed her hands to her abdomen. “Is it horrible? I never got a chance actually to see it, what with it being online. Buck said you’d shit and the girls said you’d like it, but do you hate it? Steve? Steven?”

Loki laughed. “Oh, darling. That is not the silence of a man who hates what he is seeing. It is one stunned into incoherent stuttering.” He snapped his fingers and flicked them at Steve. “There. I doubt you wish to spend the rest of the night in your armour. This is more in line with your Midgardian traditions I believe.” He turned and began to saunter away. “Do not take forever, _lillesøster_. There is celebrating to be had.”

“Steve?” she whispered, and he gave his head a shake.

“He’s right. Jeez, baby. This was your surprise? I can’t even…” He had no words to express how stunningly gorgeous she looked to him in that moment.

The incredible dress had ropes of tiny pearls and gems to hold it on her shoulders. A low bodice with a heart-shaped neckline lined with more tiny pearls. Lace, crystals, pearls, all graced the bodice, making pretty patterns in dips and swirls and flowers down to her knees where the dress fell away in a layer of unadorned tulle.

“Can… can you turn around?” he asked, his voice breathy and not at all sounding like him.

She smiled, evidently hearing the desire and awe in his words and turned to show him her back. The deep v went to just above her waist, more rows of draped seed pearls dripped down her shoulders, coming to a point where a satin bow sat in pride of place just above her waist.

Loki had taken her hair up, twisting it into a knot of curls and braids while leaving the moonstone crown glowing on her brow. Her gauntlet reflected silver and gleamed against the dress. Her ring shone. She just _sparkled_ , a moon goddess granted to him by the hands of fate.

“I… I think… I may need to sit down,” he finally choked out but took the three strides he needed to reach her, step into her spine, and lay his lips on the bared nape of her neck. His fingers latched around the locket resting on her chest, and he held it in his fist, his hand against the beat of his girl’s heart. Tears burned his eyes as he held her tight to his chest.

“I take it you like it?” she laughed a little, but her voice was hoarse.

“I fucking love it,” he whispered against her skin. “It’s… I guess you’d call it a modern take on a forties era wedding dress. Buck… shit… he did good. But you make it perfect, baby.”

“Steven,” she gave a half sob and held onto the arm he had locked around her waist.

“Thank you,” he sighed and kissed her bare shoulder. “Thank you, dollface. This is… you didn’t have to, but I’m so glad you did.”

“I hated the fact I felt like you didn’t have a say. Rushed you into the wedding, forced you to follow our traditions, disregarded so many of your own. This is _our_ wedding. You should enjoy it, too.”

“Sweetheart,” he sighed and kissed her throat before allowing her to turn around and lift her arms to his neck. “It was enough to see you walking toward me wearing this.” He gently touched the locket. “It was like having my ma here, even if I know she couldn’t be.”

“She’s here, Stevie. I believe she’s here, watching. I hope she’s happy for you.”

“She would be,” he murmured, caressing her cheek. “She’d only have to meet you once to know how right you were for me.”

A flush darkened her cheeks to go with her pleased smile. “And look at you, all cleaned up. Got to admit, you’re looking pretty snazzy yourself, Rogers. What colour is this suit?”

He looked down and gave a bark of surprised laughter, having not even noticed the missing armour. “Dark grey I think. Hard to tell in the dark.”

“Well, Captain. Whatever the colour, I’m looking forward to leading you around by that tie later tonight.”

“Oh? Kinky. You gonna save that stuff for the honeymoon?” he teased.

She stepped into him and forced him to step back, step by step until he sat down hard on a padded bench when his knees connected with it.

***

You stepped between his spread legs. “Captain, if I didn’t know damn well one of these nosy as fuck Avengers would come looking, I’d show you just how kinky I can get with that tie,” you purred.

His hands were on your knees, drawing the bottom of the dress up slowly. “Yeah? I bet we’ve got at least ten minutes before someone comes lookin’,” he snickered, his grin broad.

His hands went beneath your skirt, skimmed the backs of your thighs and drifted up to close big hands over your ass cheeks. A rather loud groan escaped him when he pulled you closer. “Why are you commando?”

“What?” you squeaked, only to have his fingertips drag over your completely bare skin. “Fucking trickster! Had to get his fun in somehow. Big jerk!”

“Bless him,” Steve groaned. “I one hundred percent forgive him for making me think I wasn't your _sjelevenn_ with this one act of compassion.”

You laughed even as his fingers pressed hard against your flesh. “How is this compassion? Now you get to live with the knowledge I'm commando for the rest of the night?”

He froze, then his forehead dropped to your belly. “Dammit. You're right.”

“He's the God of Mischief for a reason, Steve,” you snickered while running your hands through his hair.

“I don't wike it.”

He was pouting, but the fact only made you giggle-snort. “Just think of it as a time saver later.”

“True.” His fingers skimmed your hip and over your belly before slipping between your legs and rubbing the gradually growing slick waiting there.

“Steven,” you sighed, both want and regret in his name.

“So, you never did tell me how this… mark comes about,” he said as he sought and found your bundle of nerves.

“You...expect me to talk while you do that?” you whined softly, loving how precise he was when he touched you. It took only seconds for him to have you hovering at the brink.

“Is a Valkyrie so easily distracted?” he teased. “I'm shocked!”

Your talons raked gently over his scalp, and he moaned, losing his rhythm for a split second before continuing the swift circling.

“Gods, Steven.” You couldn't stop your hips from rocking into his hand if you tried.

“Tell me about my mark, baby.”

A quiet moan saw you shifting toward him. You clenched your hand on his shoulder and continued to sift your fingers through his hair. The intense pleasure was quite thoroughly fogging your brain, but you fought past it to give him his answer. “It starts with us, together…” a small gasp escaped when his fingers sank deeper.

“Together? Together how?”

“Don’t be dense, Rogers,” you quipped and locked your knees to keep your legs from shaking.

“Ah, that way,” he chuckled and wrapped his arm beneath your buttocks, giving one a firm squeeze but helping hold you up.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased and tugged his hair. “While you are relaxing, letting me do all the work like the lazy slug you are-”

“Hey!” he huffed.

“-I’ll be working a bit of Valkyrie magic.” You tugged on his hair, pulling his head back to force his chin up. Holding him there, you lightly brushed your nails down the cords of his throat. “Right here, Steven. I’m going to work you up, drive you so wild, and when the time is right, I shall place my mark here and seal it, making you mine for all to see.”

“And what,” he breathed out on a shuddered when you scratched him with your nails, “does the mark mean?”

You closed your eyes, the flood of pleasure throbbing through your veins as he began to plunge his fingers through your walls with vigour, sending sensation slamming outward. The grip he had on your thighs tightened when your legs grew weaker. “Wings… wings of the Valkyrie…” you whimpered.

“And?” he growled, knowing precisely what he was doing to you.

“The rune… means… _Rekker_.” You threw your head back, so close to coming on his fingers you could barely breathe.

“And what does _Rekker_ mean?”

“Steve…” Your hand closed spasmodically on his shoulder. “Stevie, please…”

“Tell me what _Rekker_ means, and I’ll finish.”

“It means…” you sucked in a breath, “Warrior Man!” It was nearly a scream when the wave you’d been riding crested and poured through you, sending you sliding into bliss and profound pleasure as you fell against him. Panting softly, you rested your forehead on his and waited for your system to steady. “Oh… damn… Steve.”

He drew his hand from your core and out from beneath your dress. His fingers went into his mouth, and he sucked on them.

It was incredibly sexy and set you squeezing your thighs together.

He stroked his other hand down your leg and helped you sit on his thigh. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

You chuckled softly and let your arms drape around his neck while he cuddled you close. “And you’re not at all biased.”

“Not at all,” he laughed, setting his chin on your hair. “So, warrior man, huh? There’s a special rune just to say soldier?”

“It doesn’t mean soldier. It means Warrior Man. Men who are warriors in the sense of their courage, bravery, deeds, and feats.” You set your hand on his cheek. “You’re a warrior, Stevie. It’s not just a job, but who you are in your soul.”

“And are all sjelevenn Rekker?” Steve asked.

“Usually,” you nodded. “They tend to join us in battle.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “I want my mark, _sjelevenn_.”

You laughed softly and ran your talons over his scalp with barely there pressure. “Oh, Steven. You’ll have it, but I promise you there isn’t nearly enough time to do all the things I have planned before someone comes looking for us.”

He growled and made you giggle. “Woman, don’t tease me. I’m already strainin’ these pants.”

“Are you now?” you asked, arching a mischievous brow as you let your hand trail slowly down his tie.

“Don’t start,” he huffed, grabbing your hand. “Let’s go before you get any friskier.”

“Me!” you laughed. “Who had whose hand up whose skirt but moments ago?”

He stood to his feet, taking you with him. “Yeah, well. I didn’t hear you complaining,” he smirked and kissed the end of your nose.

Snickering softly, you linked your arm through his and let him lead you toward the compound. The crunch of gravel beneath your combined feet filled the air, and you gave it enough time to reach the bridge before asking, “So, what did Sharon do?”

He stumbled and grabbed the railing to right himself. “Uh, why would you think she did anything?”

You arched a brow and threw him a sarcastic, “Really, Steven? This little interlude wasn't part of a distraction?”

“No, I, she… um… _nothing_?” His voice went up an octave.

“ _Sjelevenn_ …” you sighed and lifted your hands to his chest. “Just tell me. Not telling me is only making me think the worst.”

“How did you even know she’d done anything?” he asked.

“Between the way Bucky and Nat quick-marched her outta here practically at sword point, the nasty scowl she had on her face, and the way she glared at me? It was hard to miss. Now, quit stalling and just tell me.”

He sighed and linked his fingers with yours. “We figured out who the leak was.”

“Sharon!?” you gasped. “That seems… unlikely.”

“Not so much Sharon, but Eric. I guess he’s been listening in on mine and Sharon’s conversations. Tony figures he’s the one who sold us out to Ross.”

You frowned. “Okay, so he managed to piece together your generic conversation and pass along possibilities to Ross?”

“Yeah, and they’d put a transmitter on her phone.”

“Shit. No wonder she was angry. But what does that have to do with me?”

He sighed. “You know how she was engaged?”

“I’m assuming she isn’t any more or won’t be for long after this.”

“Apparently, she hasn’t been for weeks. He accused her of… well… of still having feelings for me, and they… broke up.”

“Oh,” you whispered. “And she does, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah. She was rather vocal about her… disagreement with our “rushed” wedding.”

Anger surged but quickly faded. “Well, you always want what you can’t have. If she’s jealous, that’s her problem, and there is nothing she can do about it now.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re taking this better than I thought you would.”

“Getting upset over someone suddenly coming face to face with the reality that they’ll never have you is silly. Now, if you’d said she made you have second thoughts, I’d be stabbing you both,” you chuckled.

“Definitely not. After Bucky told her to plant her ass and keep her opinions to herself, all I could focus on,” he tugged you closer, “was you.”

“Good.” You patted and smoothed down his tie. “I’d hate to ruin this suit with a sword.”

“To say nothing of me?” Steve asked.

“Rogers, if you’d had a single doubt, you would have deserved it,” you grinned brightly, turned on your heel, and sauntered away.

He burst out laughing and caught up quickly. “Guess it’s a good thing the only girl for me is you then, huh?”

His arm went around your waist, and he scooped you up against him, spun in a circle, and made you laugh. “Put me down, _sjelevenn_!”

“I don’t think so.” He held you tight to his chest and let your feet dangle.

“You keep this up, we’ll never make our own party,” you scolded but you wrapped your arms around his neck and held on just as tightly.

“I can’t help it. I’m so happy!” he laughed and lifted you up in the air. “We’re married!”

You squealed and held onto his biceps, his incredible strength a huge turn on. “Steven! Put me down, crazy man!”

He dropped you gently to your feet and held your face between his palms. “I love you so damn much. I don’t care if people think it was rushed, or other stupid reasons, you make me happy. This makes me happy. I can’t believe how happy!”

He sealed his mouth to yours, sank in, and wallowed. The kiss stole the bones from your legs and had you leaning into him when you knees gave out.

“Oi! Lovebirds! Shake a leg!” Scott’s voice broke the two of you apart.

“Lang! Don’t make me hurt you!” Steve bellowed.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Cap! I pulled the short straw,” Scott turned and darted back the way he’d come.

Taking Steve’s hand, you tugged at it. “Come on, _Cap_. You gonna dance with me tonight?” you asked coyly.

“At least once,” he teased.

“Oh, Stevie. It’s going to be more than once,” you stated, and it was a promise you intended to keep.

***

Steve walked into the lounge and stopped dead. “Wow, and I thought the ceremony space was something.” He turned to look behind him, and then back into the hall. “We did come inside, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” you snickered. “Don’t tell him I said so, but Loki’s a bit of a romantic at heart.”

“I would never have guessed,” Steve chuckled, taking in the woodland setting.

Trees grew along the walls, and vines lifted toward the roof as living centrepieces to cover the ceiling with dripping leaves and flowers. Round glass lanterns flickered with candles. More candles and greenery decorated the tables; a ‘U’ shaped one sat at the head of the room, all your friends - your family - waited for you there.

“Is it as magical as it seems?”

“Baby… it’s stunning.” He took your hand and stepped over the threshold causing applause to erupt and wild cheering to thunder through the room.

On a stage to one side, Tony tapped a mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, Captain and Mrs. Rogers! How about that first dance, Cap?”

You laughed and pulled Steve toward the open space with the wooden floor. “I had Bucky brush me up on a dance lesson.”

“Yeah?” Steve chuckled and spun you under his arm. “You gonna show me some moves for our first dance?”

“How about I just don’t embarrass you when you lead?” you laughed and placed your hand on his shoulder.

“And what song did you pick, baby?”

The first strains of the song poured from the speakers.

“You did hit all the high points for makin’ me sentimental,” he smirked and shook his head.

“Well, it's also fitting.”

As Etta James sang, you swayed together, happy and relaxed. Steve eventually coaxed you into a few dance steps, leading you around the floor with rather suave grace before returning you to the center to sway again.

Your arms snuck up around his neck, and he dropped his to wrap around your waist. You rested your head on his chest and felt his cheek settle against your hair. It was sweet and tender, exactly what you'd come to expect from your _sjelevenn_ , and when the last strains of the music died, he dipped you low and kissed you deeply to the clear approval of your guests.

Laughing together, you made your way toward the head table where there was a continual stream of hugs and tears.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Tony called from the stage, causing everyone to quiet down.

“What you want, Stark?” you shouted.

The smile on his face was wide, wicked, and full of amusement. “ _Damn, girl_!” The group as a whole burst out laughing, but he waved his hand to get everyone to quiet down a second time. “I know your Queen now, but I never expected you to be such a diva as to require a wardrobe change!” he teased. “And to drag Cap along with you? Talk about bridezilla!”

“Hey!” you barked and held out your arms. “When you’ve got it, flaunt it!” You shot him a wink and took your seat, Steve laughing at your side.

Tony chuckled into the mic. “It appears I’ve been roped into emceeing this shindig,” he shot Pepper a look, “thanks, dear.”

“You love it!” Pepper shouted. “We all know you like hearing yourself talk!”

He didn’t bother to deny it. “Be that as it may, I have something to say.”

“When don’t you?” shouted Sam.

“Bite me, Wilson!” Tony barked, and everyone chuckled. “As I was saying before I was so rudely heckled, this last year I’ve watched two people stupidly in love dance around each other like idiots.”

You scoffed, and Steve scowled.

“But then they got the nudge they needed,” he waved his hand behind him, “thanks to an even bigger idiot.”

You frowned when everyone whistled and cheered loudly until Steve leaned over and murmured, “You remember the video of you kicking Garry’s ass that night we got together?”

“Oh, shit,” you sighed and covered your eyes.

“That’s our girl!” Tony laughed, the sound of Garry connecting with the window thudding loudly through the room. Again he waited for things to quiet down before speaking. When he did, his voice was softer, still full of amusement, but also heavy with affection. “I know you two have had tough times together. There’s been pain and tears along the way, but you’ve triumphed because of the deep love and faith you have in each other. I’ve never seen two people more suited to each other than the Captain and the Valkyrie. So I invite those gathered to raise a glass in toast-”

“Wait!” Thor bellowed, surging to his feet.

“It’s kind of too late, big guy. You can’t protest the wedding now, especially as you married them,” Tony huffed.

“Not that!” Thor huffed. “Heimdall, the cask.”

The big guardian stood and hefted an oak barrel to his shoulder.

“Thor, you didn’t,” you sighed, then groaned when he nodded.

“You can’t disregard this tradition, Sváfa. I won’t allow it,” Odin said, a smirk twitching his lips.

“Baby?” Steve asked as Thor tapped the cask.

“The brought the Bridal Ale,” you sighed. “It’s… potent.”

“How potent?” he asked, slight concern in his voice.

“You’ll see,” you muttered and got to your feet, muttering about asinine and archaic rituals.

“In our culture,” Thor was explaining, “The Bridal Ale must be served and shared together for the marriage to be considered valid. The lovely bride must assume the foremost of her duties as the wife in the ceremonial serving of drink.”

“You mean, the marriage is… not accepted if (Y/N) doesn’t do this?” Vision asked, sounding intrigued. “The entire process can be voided because she did not play the servant?”

“It is a compact,” murmured Odin. “A wife’s agreement to care for the household. It is only a formality, but she is Queen. We will have no one contesting the validity of their marriage because of one missed step. By drinking together, the bride and groom are made one in the eyes of the law and the gods, symbolically affirming their new kinship.”

“Darling,” Loki said as you passed, his hand out holding the _kåsa_.

“Thanks, Loki.” You plucked it from his palm and rounded the end of the table to where Thor stood waiting.

He and Heimdall hoisted the cask, and you shook your head at their theatrics. “Just gotta show off all those muscles, hm?”

“My queen. Would I be so prideful?” Heimdall asked while Thor only grinned.

“Yes, I believe you would,” you chuckled and reached for the tap. You filled the wooden bowl to half full and turned off the tap. “You better not have brought enough for a month, Thor.”

“Of course not,” he huffed. “You won’t be here for a month. I’ll have it sent to the Hall once we return to Asgard.”

You groaned softly, knowing he would expect you to indulge in the ale at every opportunity. “Thanks,” you muttered sarcastically and turned toward Steven.

Walking toward him, you held the bowl outstretched and presented it to him with a short bow. “Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle. With strength blended and brightest honour, mixed with magic and mighty songs, with goodly spells, and wish-speeding runes. I bid thee drink, husband, so thy health and strength are assured.”

“Shakespeare in the park,” Tony coughed into the mic.

You ignored him, focusing on Steve who reached to take the bowl from you. “Make motion with the _kåsa_ toward Thor, then offer a toast to Odin, drink and hand it back,” you whispered so he could complete the ritual.

“Do I have to make it sound so formal?” he asked, and you shook your head.

The bowl left your hands, and you stepped out of the way. Steve lifted it to Thor and offered a tilt of his head, before looking at Odin. “A toast to the All-father. May he bless this union between the daughter of his heart and a man who vows to love and protect her with everything he is.”

Odin appeared pleased and nodded when Steve lifted the bowl to his lips. He drank, and you tried not to laugh when he wheezed after swallowing.

“Damn!” he gasped and passed back the bowl.

You smirked but lifted the bowl. “To Freyja, wherever she may be. Bless the union you've been meddling in for years. Strengthen the ties that bind us.” The ale went down smooth as silk until the tail whipped you in the tonsils and the burn of alcohol scorched your lungs. “Woo, good stuff!”

“Can I continue now?” Tony asked.

“Have at it, Iron Man!” you called, waving him on as you returned to your seat beside Steve.

“Then I ask those gathered to lift their glass in a toast to the bride and groom!”

While the rest _here-here’d_ and cheered, you did a quick search of the room with your senses before turning to Steve and lifting your chin for the kiss you knew was coming. He tasted like the ale, and you hummed appreciatively.

“Tasty, _sjelevenn_ ,” you purred against his lips so only he could hear.

“Not bad yourself,” he chuckled.

“Alright, folks! Let’s eat so we can get this party started!” Tony called out and motioned to the caterers.

You had no idea how he’d pulled it off, or what he’d paid for the short notice, but when the servers began coming around with giant platters of food for the tables, you shook your head. Only Tony could pull off something like this.

A young girl placed a basket of bread on the table and smiled nervously. “Congratulations,” she said, hands shaking a little.

“Thank you,” you smiled, and Steve nodded.

“I can’t believe… Captain America… married.” She shook her head and moved on before you could say anything.

“News is going to break like wildfire,” Steve murmured, laying his arm over the back of your chair as he bent closer. “There’s gonna be a lot of love, hate for a while I think.”

“Guess that’s what happens when you steal Cap away from the women of the world,” you snickered softly.

“That’s okay. Tony’s got pictures of you from when you threatened to beat Ross. Once those get out,” he snickered softly, “the men of the world are going to hate my guts.”

You laughed and reached for your glass of wine. “Maybe it’s a good thing we’ll be gone for a while. Give people time to get over themselves.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, glancing toward the other tables. “Probably a plan.”

You knew exactly where his eyes had drifted having searched her out yourself. Sharon sat with a few of the tactical response boys in the back. Apparently, she hadn’t left after all.

The hand coated in metal slowly clenched in your lap.

Things were about to get interesting.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: language
> 
> Song: My Wish by Rascal Flatts

## Chapter Thirty-One

* * *

It took an hour of food, toasts, and laughter before you could sneak away, using the excuse of needing the bathroom to make your escape. You’d quietly watched Sharon laugh and talk while drinking with the boys from tactical. She stayed out of the way, didn’t say anything untoward, but her presence had your instincts firing on all cylinders.

So you decided enough was enough. She’d been eyeballing you, likely expecting you not to be able to tell, so you made a show of getting up, waving the others off, and heading for the washrooms down the hall alone.

A couple of the girls from accounting were already there, giggling together, nicely buzzed. They squealed excitedly and grabbed your hands, gushing over your dress and Steve’s suit, making you chuckle. Their chatter was high and wild, but fun and friendly. You gave each a hug and waved them away when they asked if you needed help with your dress.

By the time Sharon sauntered in the door, you were calmly washing your hands.

“Sharon,” you smiled her way. “I'm so glad you stayed.”

She blinked at you, taken aback. “You… are?”

“Of course!” you chuckled, drying your hands before returning your gauntlet. “You're such good friends with Steve. I would have hated if you'd missed being witness to our marriage.”

There was no physical blade jabbing her in the heart, but she still reacted like there was when she rubbed her hand on her chest. “Yeah. Right. So,” she cleared her throat and moved toward the sinks, “what's your plan here?”

“Mm,” you shrugged. “Asgard is calling. I'll go deal with my Valkyrie and likely travel between worlds for a while once things are settled. After the honeymoon, of course,” you added to grind salt into her wound.

“That's not what I meant!” she barked, slamming her hand down on the sink.

“I know what you meant. You think I'm a charlatan. A fraud sent to trick Captain America. A trick which involves flying horses, magic swords, and not one but four gods of Asgard. Oh yes, I'm quite the trickster to pull Odin into my scheme. Pretty elaborate plan if you ask me. Perhaps… _I_ should be called Loki?” you laughed softly and headed for the door.

She grabbed you by the arm. “You hurt him in any way…”

“What will you do?” you asked quietly not bothering to look at her, not bothering to pull away.

“I’ll find some way to make you pay.”

You could smell the alcohol on her and knew she wasn’t in her right mind, but to imply you’d ever hurt Steve was too much. The speed all Valkyrie were known for was only hampered slightly by the narrowness of your gown when you removed her hand from your arm and slammed her back first into the wall. Your talons dug into the drywall on either side of her throat, squeezing down to cut off her airway. With her toes barely skimming the ground, she slapped at your arm.

“How dare you?” you hissed. “Steve has been my _sjelevenn_ through thousands of years! To imply I would ever cause him pain is an insult to both him and me! I am his shield! I watch his back! That is my only concern when I am with him. My safety means nothing in comparison to his so don’t ever, _ever_ question my loyalties or my priorities again!”

“You… can’t… take him…” she wheezed and swung for your face.

You knocked the strike away with lazy ease. “I am not taking him from you. He was already mine.”

“Take him… away.”

“Away from what?” you huffed.

She choked, growing more frantic, and you released her. Sharon slid down the wall and landed with a thump. “From the world!” she rasped. “He's too important to disappear for God knows how long to Asgard!”

“That is not your decision to make,” you told her coldly. “He is my husband. His presence is required when I resume my throne.”

“You leave us… vulnerable,” she hissed, holding her throat.

“What a crock of shit!” you scoffed. “That is an insult to everyone on this base who calls themselves an Avenger. He may lead, but each is more than capable of getting the job done. As it is, it is but a cry to gain Heimdall's attention, and but a messenger more to gain mine!” You crouched down to be eye level with her. “I know you've seen the video now. Clemens has a bootlegged copy of when I killed the _ljå_. That is _one_ Valkyrie! Imagine an army of Valkeri ready to ride at my call to the defence of this world. I go to Asgard, soulmate at my back and guard at my side to bring order back to my people. I need Steve for that. He is a King in his own right. One long in coming.”

“I don't believe it,” she snapped.

“You are not required to.” You snaked your hand out and grabbed her by the chin, deadly sharp talons pressing dangerously close to breaking the skin. “But you get in my way again, Agent Carter, and I will show you just how swiftly I will defend my _sjelevenn_. No one takes what's mine.”

You released her and pushed to your feet. “He liked and respected you once,” you stared down at her in pity, “too bad you have now broken his trust with the stunt you pulled. I invited you to stay. Now I'm asking you to leave.”

“And if I won't?” she asked petulantly.

“I will have Natasha escort you out. At this point, you've used up all your markers, Sharon. What friends you still have here? They won't go against Nat, and she’s never really liked you.”

“He stayed with you out of pity after he found out you were blind.”

A smile curled your lips, cold and deadly and learned from one God of Mischief. “If that were true, then why is he still here? I am no longer an invalid. He could have left me at any time. You believe whatever deluded ramblings you need to, Sharon, but Steve married me, and jealousy is an ugly emotion.”

You made to walk away, but she just had to get in one more alcohol infused shot.

“He'll never love you like he loved my Aunt Peggy.”

“No, he won't,” you murmured and smiled. “Because he will always love me more. You could not possibly understand what it's like to be connected to someone who is the other half of your soul. You put doubt in me once, Sharon. You'll never do so again.” You made to walk out but paused in the doorway. “I once thought we could be friends you and I, but your jealousy has shown your true colours.”

She said nothing, and you left. A little heavy of heart, knowing what had been broken would likely never be made whole. You sighed and turned away from the party to walk down the silent halls and take a minute to clear your head. Finding the team’s lounge area deserted, you wandered inside and sat on a sofa to stare blankly out the window.  

“You okay, brat?” Clint called from the doorway.

“I am,” you sighed. “Sharon and I had a… discussion.”

He shoved his hand through his hair and came to your side, frustration evident when he sat down with a thump and took your hand. “Do I need to ask her to leave?”

“I have already told her she’s no longer welcome. I threatened to have Nat remove her if she didn’t go.”

“We all know Nat’s been itchin’ to go a round with her.”

“I don’t think it will come down to that. She’s not here to make trouble, or she wasn’t. This is just… a shock. I think coming here, seeing what was happening, walking in on the wedding… it finally solidified it for her. She was never getting Steve back. Maybe she thought if she encouraged him to go after me and I broke his heart, she could step back into the picture. I don’t care how ‘mutual’ Steve said their breakup was. She sure as shit isn’t over him.”

“He’s Cap. There isn’t a girl alive who wouldn’t kill to be in your position,” Clint chuckled softly. “And now Laura wants to know where I can get armour like his.”

You laughed and leaned your head on his shoulder only to heave a heavy sigh.

“What’s that noise for?” he asked.

“I told her she wasn’t going to get under my skin again… but…”

“But what? Don't you go thinking she was right in whatever bullshit she threw at you. I trained you better than that, and you know Steve. He’d never-”

You shook your head, cutting off his tirade. “It’s not that. It’s this… Asgard business. Am I leaving you in the lurch? The Avengers, I mean. I’m taking two of the best with me, Steve and Bucky. Am I making us vulnerable? Steve is so important… what if…”

Clint snorted out a laugh. “Maybe a few years ago I would have said yes, but now? With all these newbies? I think we’ll be fine, (Y/N). Besides, how hard is it to stand on the lawn and shout at Heimdall?”

“I said the same thing to Sharon,” you snickered.

“So go. Take Steve and Bucky. Clearly, Freyja thinks you’ll need him if she’s offered Barnes protection for his arm. Hell! We’d all go with you if you wanted us.”

“I know you would. In a way, I wish you could. I think I may have a very large target on my back once we get there.”

He squeezed your hand. “Well, you know where to find me if you need an archer.”

“A damn fine one. Though you still couldn’t hit me on your best day,” you teased.

“Foul! That’s just rude,” he huffed. “You’re all super-powered now, but just you wait. One day, one day you will be splattered with orange paint, and I will crow in victory!”

You laughed at him but settled further into his side, the concern you’d had fading into dust. The companionable silence stretched between you before you found the courage to ask the next question.

“Hey, Clint? Would you dance with me? For the father-daughter dance. I don’t think of you as my dad, and Odin cares a wit for our foolish Midgardian traditions, but you’re like my closest family this life.”

He wrapped his arm around you and held on tight. “What about Loki or Thor? Won’t they want that honour?”

“I love them both, but I just feel this. There’s so much I wouldn’t have made it through without you, Clint. You were my first real friend here, and I love you like a brother. When everything went wrong, you were the first person I thought of — the place I wanted to run to. You’re family. I’d be honoured if you’d be my partner.”

If a tear dripped into your hair when he set his chin on the top of your head, you didn’t say anything about it, just slipped your arms around his waist and held on.

“I’m the one honoured. I love you too, brat,” he murmured, voice shaky and eyes wet. “But I get to pick the music.”

“Sure,” you smiled and pulled a little away to stand with him. “Shall we?”

He held out his arm, and you linked yours through it. “You know you’re gorgeous, right?” he said, grinning at you.

“Who knew Barnes had it in him, huh?” you laughed.

“It’s not just the dress, brat, but you. You glow tonight. I’m happy for you.”

“Me too, Clint. Me too.”

“So,” he drawled, and you looked at him sharply. That tone was never a good one and usually got you in trouble. “You gonna get Cap to dance dirty with you?”

“Clint!” you gasped and smacked his arm. “What the hell, feathers? Where’d you even hear about that?”

“I have my ways,” he chuckled.

You glared up at him. “What vent were you eavesdropping from?”

“For Christ sake! I don’t crawl through the vents!”

“Anymore,” you snickered. “Not since Bucky shot you that time.”

“He didn’t shoot me,” Clint pouted. “He stabbed me.”

“Because you were in the vents.”

“Natasha dared me to do it.”

“I’m sure she did,” you placated him with a gentle pat on his arm. “Poor baby. Maybe if you weren’t always ogling his thighs, Bucky would feel less threatened.”

“Shut up!” he squealed, placing his hand over your mouth. “Why must you torment me?”

“Because I love you,” you teased after licking his palm to make him let go.

“Gross! You’re so nasty! Save that shit for Cap!”

“Oh, I will,” you smirked and threw him a saucy wink. “Steve doesn’t mind a little tongue action.”

“Eww!! Stop it!” he huffed and slammed both hands to his ears.

The high pitched squeal this caused had you frowning at him. “Feathers?”

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged, turning away.

“Do you have... hearing aids?” you asked him quietly.

He sighed and turned toward you. “Have for a long time. They’re just tiny and most people never notice. I wear them twenty-four, seven and with the advances in tech, it’s like I never lost my hearing.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” you asked, hurt that he’d kept his disability a secret while you’d been struggling to adjust to yours.

“No one knows. It was part of the deal with Fury. Like Laura and the kids. I didn’t want it to be considered an issue when it came to missions. It's not. Never has been. Com sits right on top of it, so communication isn’t a problem, and I didn’t want to be considered a liability when I’m not.”

“I still wish you’d said… something,” you murmured. “After all this time? To find this out wouldn’t have made any difference to any of us. You hear fine with them and haven’t ever had a problem on a job, so what’s the big deal?”

He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s different. People would treat me different. I’m not you, (Y/N). I don’t have superhuman abilities — just one regular human disability. If people found out, they’d look at me screwy. I’d go from being Hawkeye to the deaf guy.”

“You really think so little of us?” you asked quietly.

“I didn’t mean…” He sighed. “It’s just easier to pretend everything is fine.”

You reached up and straightened his collar. “I won’t out you, feathers, but just think about it. What if they get damaged? I think people would like to know and be prepared in case of an emergency. I’m assuming this is why you’re so good at reading lips.”

“Yeah.”

His body was tight, held defensively, but he relaxed a little when you said you wouldn’t out him. Now he only appeared uncomfortable, as if he were torn between continuing on as if this conversation had never happened and coming clean to the others.

You smirked a little grin at the irony of the two of you and smoothed down the shoulders of his jacket. “Ain’t we a pair. The blind girl with the insane ears, and the deaf boy with the crazy eyes.”

“No wonder we fit,” he chuckled and returned to leading you down the hall. “So… about getting Cap riled up on the dance floor…”

Laughter burst from you. “It will take some more of the bridal ale, maybe a little of the stuff Thor packs around in his flask, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Yes!” he hissed and pumped his fist into the air. “I’ve got Sam and Scott on the line for fifty each if you can get him to get _nasty_ with you.”

“They bet against me?” you gasped in shock.

“Nah, brat. They bet Cap had more willpower than you do power over him.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. “Oh, sweetheart. Haven’t they figured out you never bet against the house?”

“Oh, my god, (Y/N). Don’t give Cap a heart attack, okay?”

You smiled wickedly at Clint. “I think it’s everyone else who’s going to die when he finally joins me out there.”

“Yeah?” he grinned broadly.

“Clint, let’s just say… Johnny ain’t got nothing on my Steve,” you threw over your shoulder as you sauntered away.

He squealed and ran up behind you to grab you around the waist and swing you into the air. “And this is why you’re my favourite!”

“Put me down, Barton!” you shrieked, bursting into a fit of giggles, but voices in the distance had you freezing. “Clint?”

His arms tightened a little more. “Just relax. Tony’s taking care of it. C’mon. We need to make sure they don’t see you.”

He packed you into a nearby janitorial closet and locked the door behind you.

When he put you down, you turned on him. “What the fuck is Ross doing here?”

***

Steve watched her go, then a few moments later, Sharon wandered out the same direction, and he was instantly on his feet.

“Don’t do it, Steve,” Bucky murmured into his beer.

“Yup. You don’t want to stick your nose in that unless (Y/N) kicks Sharon through the wall,” Sam agreed.

“But… I…” Steve tried to protest but the faces of all his friends and teammates warned him against it, and he sat back down.

“Steve,” Natasha drew his attention. “She waved us all off for a reason. This needs to happen, for both their sakes.”

“You cannot always be there to stand between her and the world,” Thor agreed. “You will need to let her fight her own battles on Asgard. They will think less of her if she is coddled.”

“The Valkyrie,” Bruce asked, “They sound a lot like the Amazons of Earth.”

“Who do you think the Amazons learned their ways from?” Thor chuckled.

“Now there’s a story there, I am certain,” Wanda asked, sipping her wine.

“Quite,” Loki said when Thor looked his way, but when he inhaled to begin the tale, Tony’s watch lit up, and Friday interrupted.

“Sir? The perimeter has been breached.”

Everyone came to attention, especially Steve.

“Show me,” Tony demanded.

A virtual image appeared above his watch, and they all leaned closer. Three black SUV’s were heading down the drive.

“I swear if that’s Ross…” Steve snarled.

“It’s Ross,” Friday replied.

“Son of a bitch!” Steve slammed his hand down on the table and bolted to his feet.

“Nope! Sit your ass down.” Tony pointed at Steve. “If you go out there hot, in a suit, and wearing _that_ ,” he pointed at Steve’s ring, “we’ll never get him out of here. Horns and Point Break, you come with me. Vis, you too. Everyone else, stay here. I mean it, Steve!”

“Someone needs to go after (Y/N). Keep her occupied and away from Ross or she’s gonna lose it,” Bucky muttered.

“On it!” Clint shouted and darted away.

“Tony, what are you up to?” Steve asked.

“Distract and deny,” Tony said as he walked away, the others following quickly.

“I’ve got to see this,” Shuri snickered.

She removed a couple of links from her bracelet and rolled them in her hand. The screen Tony had used to play the video of (Y/N) kicking ass lit up, and the crowd slowly quieted as everyone’s turned to watch.

“Did you just hack the entire system?” Peter asked, awe in his voice.

“What? Like it’s hard?” Shuri muttered and then shushed him while ignoring the disapproving look from her brother.

Steve didn't bother to comment, preferring simply to watch as Tony, Thor, Loki, and Vision walked out the front doors. It dawned on him why Tony had picked those three to go with him. Thor and Loki appeared as they always did in their Asgardian garb, Vis had reverted to his regular android form, and it didn't require a special occasion for Tony to wear a suit.

“Pretty smart,” Bucky murmured.

“Secretary Ross,” Tony quipped when he stepped from the vehicle. “I thought I asked you to make an appointment next time? I mean twice in the same day is a little excessive don't you think?”

“You went communications dark. We were concerned.” Ross’s team spread out around him. “Where's Rogers?”

“Off wining and dining his girl, I'd imagine.  I haven't seen them lately,” he lied easily. “If that's all your questions answered, off you go.” Tony waved them away.

“I'd like to look around if you don't mind.”

“I do mind. This is the first downtime the people here have had in weeks. Most have gone to visit family or have headed out for the evening, hence the reason we are running dark. As good a time as any to run a few simulations. Right, Vis?”

“Indeed. The night has been… uneventful,” he agreed.

“And you, Thor? I would have thought the King of Asgard would be needed on his throne,” Ross snapped.

“And miss The Great British Bake Off?” Loki quipped, his tone implying Ross was stupid. “I think not.”

“I do love that show,” Thor agreed.

“Quality television. Highly amusing,” Loki concurred. “Though I still believe my favourite will win over yours.”

Thor gasped. “How dare you besmirch Flo’s good name for that fiend Paul! I doubt he'll make it through another week.”

“A wager then, brother?” Loki asked.

“You will shine my armour without the use of magic if my baker wins.”

“And you, dear brother, will sharpen all my blades if I win.”

“Done!” Thor barked and slapped his hand down on Loki's wrist for a solid shake, sending thunder rolling in the distance.

“What the hell just happened here?” Ross muttered.

“Asgardians are strange,” Tony smirked and clapped his hands. “Well, thanks for the visit. There's the gate. Don't let it hit you on your way out.”

Ross only crossed his arms. “I insist on that look around, Stark.”

Tony rolled his eyes and groaned. “Fine! God, you’re so annoying.” He waved a hand, and the group of them returned inside.

Steve wondered how many of the others noticed the look exchanged by Tony and Loki before everyone was tromping in the door. Vision and Thor took up the rear guard, while Loki and Tony led the way.

The camera’s followed them into the main entrance, but Bruce gave Steve a nudge. “Cap, look.”

The tablet which seemed permanently attached to Bruce’s hand had multiple views of cameras throughout the facility. “Clint’s got (Y/N), but Sharon’s going to walk right into Tony.”

“On it!” Natasha and Bucky said at the same time, shared a smirk, and raced out of the room.

Steve just shook his head, amazed by women and their ability to run in heels. “When they get here, no one makes a sound,” he commanded to the silent room and made sure there were nodding heads at every table. “Sam, you, Scott and Maria get to the kitchen and get the caterers on board.” The three of them pushed back from the table and rushed for the swinging doors at the end of the hall. “Laura?”

“Don’t worry about us, Steve. The kids and Clint play this game all the time.” She turned back to the table and began to whisper about dad’s game of hide and be quiet.

It caused Steve’s heart to lurch. The idea that Clint had been teaching his kids what to do in case someone ever came for them gave him a moment of guilt. His family had been safe until Ultron had happened. Now, it was a worry Clint and Laura had to deal with; one Steve felt responsible for.

What must it be like, the constant worry over your kids? He worried enough about (Y/N). What would it be like to add tiny people to that list of all the weight he carried? Then a thought occurred to him. Had he and (Y/N) ever had kids in her Valkyrie lives? Was there a son or daughter in his past he couldn’t remember? Why had he never thought to ask her?

Shoving it to the side to think about later, Steve returned his attention to the screen Shuri had appropriated and snickered a little when Clint dragged (Y/N) into a closet.

“As you can see, the halls are pretty much dead,” Tony was saying.

“You’d think there would be support staff working, Stark,” Ross grumbled.

“They are only human, Secretary, not Gods. You cannot expect people to work round the clock for weeks at a time without a break,” Loki snapped, full of condescension.

“You shouldn’t speak. You’re still on probation,” Ross sneered.

Thunder cracked overhead. “Have a care how you speak to my brother, Ross. He has changed. He is making amends, and with (Y/N)’s return, there is little chance of that changing,” Thor said, his voice deep and angry.

“Hm, she would be quite cross with me if I returned to my more… _nefarious_ ways,” Loki chuckled, glancing at the closet door.

Loki’s smile grew a little wider, and Steve wondered what his girl had said in the closet with Clint to make the mischief maker smirk. He glanced down at Bruce’s tablet in time to watch Bucky and Nat grab up Sharon and duck into a dark office. Bucky’s hand was firmly locked over Sharon’s mouth, and Nat was whispering something as the three of them crouched low.

Again, Ross glanced at the door but didn’t stop as he continued with his impromptu inspection. They walked on past the dark offices and empty halls, getting closer to the communal dining hall Loki had transformed into their wedding venue.

“Get ready,” Steve murmured.

“How are they going to pass this off as nothing?” Shuri asked.

“Magic,” Steve smirked. “Shut it down.” He motioned to the screen.

“But…” Shuri protested only to have T’Challa stare her down. “Fine.”

The screen went dark, and Steve looked out over the room. “Dead silence. No one move.” He could hear them coming and held up his hand, counting down with his fingers as they grew closer. It appeared unnecessary when a shimmer of green and gold began to flicker around the door frame. A bubble appeared, pushing outward from the entrance, and Steve clicked on the camera which showed the hallway outside the dining room on Bruce’s tablet.

Ross and his entourage appeared along with Tony and the others.

“As you can see,” Tony was saying, “The facility is quite dark.”

Ross didn’t look convinced. “A rather interesting picture has been floating around the net today. It’s gathered a lot of notice.”

“Oh?” Tony looked surprised. “Of what?”

“Rogers, Barnes, Wilson, and Romanoff… leaving a jeweller.”

“Really?” Tony gasped and looked at Vision. “Have you seen it?”

“I have,” the android agreed.

“And you kept it from me? How could you?” Tony whined.

“I was not aware it was important. Did not the Captain say he was inclined to purchase a gift for (Y/N)’s coronation? I believe he was selecting earrings, was he not?”

Steve couldn’t contain his grin. He’d never heard Vision lie before, though everything was presented as a question making it a query and not technically a lie.

Ross, meanwhile, was staring at the closed doors and finally pushed past Tony to shove them open. Everyone within froze and almost quit breathing. Steve glanced at the doorway where Ross was frowning, standing a foot inside the room, and back down at the screen where he could see through the opening to what Ross was looking at.

The room was dark with empty tables and only one or two overhead lights on to show the way to the communal kitchen. Ross took two more steps forward, and Loki’s illusion expanded, the golden glow growing even closer to the tables nearest the doors.

“Still, I’d like to speak with Wilson, Barnes, or Romanoff,” Ross muttered, turning his back to the room.

“Not here, I’m afraid. I did tell you nearly everyone was gone for the night.” Tony walked away, forcing Ross to follow if he wanted any more answers.

Steve could hear Ross’s teeth grind together in anger.

“And just where might they all be?” he barked.

“I told you, Secretary. Everyone has the night off. The four of us drew the short straws.”

Tony’s voice faded when the door swung shut, and the golden glow winked out. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, though the silence stretched on until Steve lowered his hand, letting everyone know the group was out of earshot.

“Well, that was close,” Fury chuckled. “He’s not going to be impressed when he finds out he’s been duped, Cap.”

Steve shrugged. “Weddings are for people who are invited, not for gate crashers.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said so when he’s beating down my door,” Fury said, though the glint in his eye assured Steve he’d enjoy doing so.

“Is he gone?” Clint asked, peeking through the doors only to have (Y/N) shove him through.

“I told you he was,” she huffed. “Tony’s taking them past the labs as we speak, completing the circuit, and will show them the door once he’s finished.”

Steve met her in the middle of the room. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, one hand going to her waist. The other cupped the nape of her neck while he searched her face for any sign of unhappiness.

“I’m fine, Steve,” she smiled and patted his chest. “We… talked.”

“And?”

She paused and glanced at their audience. “Why don’t we sit? I could use a drink, a strong one.”

Her gaze shot to Heimdall who collected an empty water pitcher and proceeded to fill it to the brim from the cask of bridal ale. Odin had been silent through the entire incident with Ross, casually observing, and Steve wondered what was going on in his head but didn’t ask, choosing instead to guide his girl back to her seat. There, he waited patiently; his chair turned, so he faced her while she conversed quietly with Heimdall, filled both wine glasses with the bridal ale, and handed Steve one.

“Spill,” Steve mumbled.

She turned toward him and scooted closer, so her knees bumped against his until he spread his apart and dragged her chair closer, causing her to smile before sobering. “She said stuff; I said stuff. It’s been agreed she shouldn’t stay for the rest of the reception. What happens next? Well, that’s up to you, Steve.”

He blinked at her sitting there calmly sipping the ale. “Me?”

“She was your friend, Steve. While once I’d hoped she and I could be friendly, I have no such desire now, but I’m not going to make you stop talking to her if having her in your life is important. I know talking things out with her often eased your mind.” Her lashes fluttered down, hiding her eyes while she drank again from her glass.

It gutted him that action, showing exactly how much it unsettled her, though she hadn’t meant to, and he gulped a mouthful of ale, needing the burn of the alcohol to help him focus. “Baby,” he sighed softly, reaching out to hold her hand. “At one time, yeah, that was true. But now, there’s you. All I need is you.”

“Really?” she whispered, peering up at him through her lashes.

He leaned forward, took her by the chin, and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Really. There will have to be a working relationship, but this was…” he shook his head, “not like her at all. It made me wonder if I ever really knew her.”

(Y/N) sighed and lightly caressed his cheek. “What can I say? Jealousy can make us do… unexpected things.”

“Jealousy, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah, Steve. But it’s you, so how could I fault her for being upset? We did kind of blindside her with all this.”

He gazed into her eyes, the amazing, beautiful, marvellous eyes Sharon had disliked, and found he didn’t care. Maybe it was wrong of him, maybe people would be shocked, but saving someone else's feelings from being hurt because he was doing the thing that made him happiest really wasn’t his problem. “I love you a lot; you know that right?”

She snorted a giggle. “Yeah, Stevie. I know.”

“Good,” he murmured and took her mouth in a hard and fast kiss which left them both breathless.

“Alright! Now that the crashers have been ejected,” Tony barked from the doorway, “let’s get this party started!” Everyone cheered as the music started up again while Sam, Scott, and Maria returned from the kitchen.

Nat and Bucky wandered in a few seconds later, and Bucky gave a sharp nod when Steve arched his brow.

Nat only grinned smugly and dusted off her hands. “We put her in one of the SHIELD vehicles with the autopilot engaged. There won’t be an issue getting her home safe.”

“Good. I could smell the booze on her,” (Y/N) said.

“You left a bit of a mark,” Nat snickered.

“She pissed me off,” (Y/N) muttered into her ale.

“I thought you said you exchanged words?” Steve asked once the focus was off his wife. 

“We did. My hand just happened to be around her throat while she spouted bullshit at me.”

“Baby,” Steve scolded softly but couldn’t contain a slight snicker.

She threw him a wink, but Tony was back on the stage causing the noise to quiet down.

“We’ve got one more traditional dance before we let all hell break loose, so how about it, majesty? Who gets to play the old man?”

“I do,” Clint huffed and flipped Tony the bird once he made sure his kids weren’t looking. “And don’t call me an old man. She married the old man.”

“Barton! Do you want me to partner you in the training ring?” Steve barked.

“I take it back,” Clint stood and bowed, “my King.”

“Your ass is mine, Barton,” Steve growled, making everyone laugh and Clint pale.

(Y/N) laughed and patted his shoulder, heading out to join Clint on the dance floor after he’d gone over to discuss music with Tony.

They swayed together, a few tears falling between them, and Steve smiled stupidly as he watched. The relationship between the two of them had always amazed him. Yes, it had started out with Clint as her training officer, but it had morphed so swiftly into the friendship he saw today, he knew it rivalled Natasha’s relationship with Barton.

His girl was family, a sister to Clint and Aunt to his kids. It was easy and sweet, and their bond was strong as iron. She laughed at something he said and kissed Clint’s cheek.

A hand came down on his shoulder, and Steve looked up at Odin. “Sir?”

“I shall be taking my leave, Captain, but will greet you again when you come to Asgard.”

Steve stood swiftly and held out his hand, grasping Odin’s arm when the man took it. “Safe journey, sir. Thank you for being here and giving your blessing.”

Odin chuckled softly. “Sváfa would have hit me with my spear if I’d even so much hinted a protest. Not that I would have. You are her _sjelevenn_ and the rightful heir of Sváfaland.”

“I look forward to hearing more of my ancestor if you are willing to talk about him.”

Though he had only the one eye, Steve had never felt more assessed than he did in that single moment.

“We will ride a hunt. After, I will speak of Hurgid.”

Heimdall, who’d been standing at Odin’s back, had eyes wide as baseballs and his mouth was slightly open. Thor also looked shocked, and Steve had a streak of trepidation run his spine. Clearly, this offer was either unprecedented or something to be concerned with, but Thor was nodding vigorously, indicating Steve should accept.

“I look forward to it.”

“Hm,” Odin hummed. “Tell Sváfa I expect her to return in five days.”

“Sir.” Steve nodded, watching Odin leave without saying goodbye.

“Captain,” Heimdall nodded. “Congratulations to you both. When you are ready, I will be waiting.”

“Heimdall,” Steve smirked and shook his hand before the tall guardian left to follow Odin.

Once they were out of the room, Steve turned to Thor. “What the hell did I just agree to?”

“A hunt. Father has not ridden a hunt in… centuries. The people of Asgard will love you for this!” Thor clapped him on both shoulders and dragged him into a hug which nearly broke a few ribs.

“Great!” Steve wheezed. “But what is it?”

“It is a great spectacle. The court gets together, and they ride to the hounds at Odin’s heels, to chase down and kill a _hildisvini_ which is then roasted and served at a feast held in your honour.”

Steve blinked. “ _Hildisvini_?” Evidently, Freyja’s spell had worn off.

“A battle swine. One of the big old boar males who has matured into the most fearsome of creatures,” Loki smirked, his eyes alight with excitement. “Well done, Captain. Just do not fall off your horse and you will be fine.”

Steve sighed but nodded. “I’ll make it work.” Though he wasn’t sure he could kill an animal just for sport.

Steve turned back to watch Clint dip (Y/N) and make her laugh as the music ended and everyone cheered and clapped.

They exited the dance floor as Stark called out, “Friday! Party mix number four!” The music changed to what they were all used to at one of Tony’s parties, emptying the tables, and filling the dance floor.

Steve shrugged out of his jacket, picked up the glass of ale, and swallowed it back, more than ready to dance with his wife and mingle with his friends. 

It was going to be a good night.


	32. Chapter 32

## Chapter Thirty-Two

* * *

It only took ten minutes for you to figure out _Party Mix 4_ was actually the playlist you’d created called _Stripper Music_. Considering Clint’s kids were still in the room, you’d made a mad dash across the dance floor to drag Tony down by his tie and tell him in no uncertain terms to clean it the hell up, at least until after the kids had been put to bed.

He’d asked you what you’d taken him for having already adjusted for your explicit content. He’d then called you dirty and asked if you stripped for Steve to that playlist. You’d disappointed him when you said it was for the days you ran on the treadmill, but if he wanted to mix it with _Nineties Power Ballads_ , you wouldn’t complain. He’d scoffed at you, but gone back to work behind the DJ stand.

Then, you’d danced, slowly putting your plan in action. Thor had been more than willing to toast the Captain, pouring more than a swig of his rotgut into Steve’s cup full of bridal ale. Loki had wandered by and flicked a hand your way, shortening the tulle bottom of your gown, so it swung around your knees instead of grazing the floor.

You’d thrown him a wink and a grin in thanks.

Over the next two hours, you’d danced with everyone at least once. Thor had beamed and swayed with you, happy and flushed with drink. Loki had proved his skills weren’t lacking when he’d led you through a fast and flashy bit of footwork. Sam, too, had busted out some slick moves and made you laugh. T’Challa and Scott choose the slower selections to chat you up and offer congratulations. Bruce in his slightly awkward shuffle had fumbled his way through a dance and congrats. Tony, suave debonair as always, had made you laugh as he swung you around and dipped you over his arm, though Stephen had stolen you from his hold and showed off his own polished moves. Vis had led you through a lovely waltz, and Bucky had shown off fancy footwork when he’d enticed you into something from the forties. Peter slid in and blushed when he’d asked you to dance in his adorable puppy way. But when Fury asked you to dance, it had been both a shock and a pleasure. The man was a smooth mover, though once the dance was through, he left the floor with a nod and hadn’t returned

The girls all grouped dance like normal, Shuri and Nakia dragged Okoye along with them, forcing her to shake her booty and loosen up. Hope, Laura, and Pepper each twirled one of Clint and Laura’s kids. Maria spent more time with her head bent over a table, discussing work with Fury than she did dancing, but she drank and laughed, and let Sam pull her away more than once.

Wanda and Natasha stuck to your hip, getting in on the action as they danced with you and snickered, agreeing to help out when it was time to entice Steve out on the floor with you.

Not that he hadn’t danced with you. He was just a damn magician about it. He’d grown used to a good chunk of your music now, having heard much of it in the shower or just in what downtime the two of you'd had together in these last few months. So he knew when Heaven by Bryan Adams came on he could slide out on the dance floor and slow dance with you.

Which was nice, to be sure, he tended to whisper in your ear as he swayed with you. Sometimes sweet, sometimes sexy. Sometimes so damn filthy you had to gasp a little to make sure you were still breathing. But as soon as the music changed, picked up any sort of beat, he beat it off the dance floor with a kiss and a saunter.

That walk was beginning to irritate you.

You went back to dancing with the girls, envying T’Challa and Nakia when the king of Wakanda proceeded to get his groove on and dance with his girl. He had pretty smooth moves, moves Nakia was enjoying when she laughed and flirted.

Steve had pretty slick moves too, ones you’d like to experience tonight, at your wedding, in the killer dress you had on, dancing dirty with your damn husband!

When Your Song by Rita Ora came on you turned to find Steve.

He was standing off the dance floor, glass in one hand, the other pressed to his chest as he laughed uproariously at the joke Sam had just told.

You narrowed your eyes on your prey and made your way quickly toward him where you plucked the cup from his hand, took a swig, glanced at Thor cause _damn_ , he really had laced Steve’s cup and shoved it at Sam while wrapping Steve’s tie around your hand.

“Come dance with me.” It wasn’t a request.

He paused for a second before shaking his head. “Maybe next time.”

“Steven. I wasn’t asking.”

There was a flush beginning to grow in his cheeks, the alcohol finally kicking in. “Baby, you know how I feel about the modern stuff.”

You gave his tie a jerk, hard enough to have him grunting. “Are you going to say _no_ to the bride, Steven?”

He gulped but gave a short nod.

The song ended, and your understanding of his hesitancy evaporated with the breadth of your threatening smile. You reached back, took his cup from Sam and handed it to Thor without looking away from Steve’s face.

“Oh, Stevie. You may come to regret that decision.” Thor put the full cup back in your hand, and you gave it to your husband.

“Baby, _c’mon_ ,” he groaned, knowing you well enough to know he’d succeeded in pissing you off.

“No, no, Rogers. You stand here with the boys and watch. I’m sure I can find someone willing to dance with the bride.” Turning on your heel, you glided away, making sure your hips twitched with every step as you went without hurry.

“You’re a stupid son of a bitch,” Bucky muttered, having wandered closer. “She wants to dance, so dance with her.”

Steve’s reply was mumbled around the glass he lifted to his lips, but his hiss when the alcohol burned down his throat was plenty audible.

Clint and Laura had put the kids down in their suite a while ago, so the music had gradually grown filthier as the night progressed. Friday was on babysitting duty, so it was easy to find Clint and Laura out on the dance floor when you walked by and touched his arm.

Clint glanced up and froze. “Now?”

“Now,” you growled.

When Hot in Herre started to play, you smiled deviously and turned toward Natasha. She threw her head back and laughed, grabbed Wanda, and made her way toward you.

“How filthy we talking?” she asked.

“Mud, Nat. We’re making mud. If he doesn’t break in the next three songs, he isn’t going to.” But you smiled. Knowing what was coming next, it likely wouldn’t take more than two.

The three of you began to move together, Wanda’s hands on your hips, her body close and a giggle on her lips. Nat’s hands were so high on your torso she could very easily cup your breasts. Her body moulded to your back, and her chin rested on your shoulder.

You couldn’t see the smile, but you knew it was there. Her sexy smile which clearly stated to anyone watching they wished they could be in her position. You reached back and held onto her hip, reached up and buried your other hand in Wanda’s hair.

If Steve had thought what you’d done with him was a form of vertical sex, this bordered on porn. You turned your head his way, finding him and everyone with him watching the three of you move.

There was a loud groan which came from the group, and Steve’s heart jumped and pounded.

Wanda’s hands drifted from your waist to Nat’s, gluing the three of you together. She giggled and brought her mouth close to your ear. “The emotions coming from the group of them…” She could only snicker.

Instead of laughing like you wanted to, you slowly let your lips part, swept your tongue along your bottom one, and leaned your head back against Natasha while giving a breathy moan. 

Nelly finished singing, and the music changed. Both Natasha and Wanda snickered as the three of you moved from the low bump and grind to a sway and circle, grind and twist, perfectly in sync.

You wrapped your arm around Wanda’s neck but couldn’t pull your eyes from Steve and began to mouth the words to the chorus.

“I’m telling you to loosen up my buttons, babe, but you keep fronting me. Sayin’ what you gonna do to me, but I ain’t seen nothin’...”

Eyes on Steve, the three of you as a unit began to twist and writhe, dropping slowly to the ground, hands swaying, backs arching, legs twinning.

“You been saying all the right things all night long, but I can't seem to get you over here to help take this off. Baby, can't you see how these clothes are fitting on me, and the heat coming from this beat? I'm about to blow. I don't think you know…”

“You’re going to give the old man a stroke you keep teasing him like that,” Natasha chuckled in your ear.

You only smirked seductively as tendrils of red power began to swirl around you, turning three dancing bodies into women of flame.

“You say you're a big boy, but I can't agree, 'cause the love you said you had ain't been put on me. I wonder if I'm just too much for you. Wonder if my kiss don't make you just wonder what I got next for you. What you want to do?”

You could sense his jaw clenching as the tease worsened when Natasha skimmed her fingers up your arm, traced the tips across your chest, flicking the locket Steve had given you to the side before drawing her nails up your throat.

You arched for her, stretched your throat like an offering, one Wanda was amused to skim her nose up.

They’d taken it to a whole new level of filth, one that had the possessive side of your _sjelevenn_ seething.

“I’m telling you to loosen up my buttons, babe, but you keep fronting me. Sayin’ what you gonna do to me, but I ain’t seen nothin’...”

You smiled at the tension on his face and grinned even bigger when he tossed back the rest of the liquor he’d been drinking, thrust his cup at Bucky, and stalked toward the three of you.

***

“You’re a stupid son of a bitch,” Bucky muttered, having wandered closer. “She wants to dance, so dance with her.”

Steve watch her go, aware of the annoyed twitch of her hips. “It’s… embarrassing,” he mumbled into his glass, hissing when the booze burned.

“What? Fuck! Why?” Bucky snorted.

“I have little desire to have fully clothed sex with my wife in the middle of a dance floor,” Steve huffed.

“Well, when you put it like that, yeah. You should just hang out here with me, Cap. (Y/N) will get over it,” Sam said, eyes alight with something sly. “Not like you haven't been out there with her at all.”

“But one should never deny the bride,” Thor said, dumping more liquor out of his flask into Steve’s cup. “Such an action could have swift and lasting consequences.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed hoarsely. “Like that!”

Steve glanced toward the dance floor and nearly whimpered. “No, no, no…” he ended up whining instead. “Not again.”

“You’re the stupid shit that won’t dance with your woman!” Bucky punched him in the shoulder. “Now all of us are going to have to watch this and suffer.”

“Suffer?” Sam snickered. “Since when is watching three gorgeous women dance together suffering?”

“When they do that!” Bucky huffed.

Steve agreed with his friend’s assessment.

It was hot. It was sexy. It was torture of the worst kind. They danced and moved and moulded together. Touched each other in ways which should be reserved for the bedroom, not the dance floor. Then the lyrics registered and he groaned.

“I thought you were familiar with her music?” Bucky chuckled.

“Not this playlist,” Steve grumbled, gulping from his cup.

He couldn’t pull his eyes from his girl, sandwiched between Natasha and Wanda. She sparkled and gleamed. Her eyes sultry and lips parted. She looked to be having a _very_ good time.

“I’m so dead,” he sighed. “She said I’d regret it. I regret it.”

“Then do something about it,” Bucky encouraged. “Suck it up and dance with your dame before the rest of us have heart attacks.”

Still, he hesitated. Yeah, she danced between two gorgeous women, but Steve only had eyes for (Y/N). A sheen of sweat glistened on her skin. The tiara in her hair gleamed. She was a siren, beckoning to him. Whether that was leading him to his doom or his greatest desire, he wasn’t yet certain.

Watching them move together, dance together, was technically nothing new. They’d always danced together before, laughing and joking and touching. It had driven him crazy back when they weren’t together. Now, it was making him fucking insane.

That was his girl they were touching. His wife it looked like Natasha was seducing. It was killing him to stand here and watch. It should be him who was grinding against his girl and running his hands over her. It should be him making her moan with every swing and thrust of hips.

Heat suffused his face; the alcohol Thor had been feeding him was pounding through his veins with every beat of his heart. His girl watched him, the desire evident on her face. The challenge came with her mouthed words, teasing, taunting, pushing him to do something about it. They appeared to dance in a sea of flame, beckoning, calling to him to come and take what was his if he only dared. But it wasn’t until Nat’s hand stroked her throat, and Wanda’s nose followed the path, that Steve lost his mind.

“Mine!” he snarled and slammed back the rest of what was in his cup, uncaring about the burn or the laughter behind him when he shoved the glass at Buck and stalked out onto the dance floor.

Song number two was just ending when he grabbed his girl’s arm and dragged her out of the sandwich of women. “Keep your hands to yourselves, ladies,” he growled causing them both to laugh and drift away.

“Well, if you won’t dance with me, Steven…” she trailed off.

“You wanna dance, baby?” he snarled, dragging her up against him.

She smiled slyly. “Yeah, Stevie. I want to dance with you.”

“Then we’ll dance.” He slammed his mouth to hers, feeling possessive and a little feral.

The new beat pounded in his head, heady and thick, but it was (Y/N)’s sexy moan he heard. Her taste flooded his mouth, replacing the burn of Asgardian hooch with that of his wife. She shifted closer. Her hands threaded through his hair, and her body began to glide against his.

Steve was moving long before he realized it. Sex on the dance floor. If that was what she wanted, that was what he’d give her.

Hands wandering, Steve dragged them down her swinging hips, caught the bottom of her dress and lifted it enough to slide his knee between her thighs. She moaned and ground down on his thigh when his hands returned to her ass, holding her tight to him as he began to move to the music.

“C’mon, baby,” he growled in her ear. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Show me how dirty you can get.”

She pulled back only enough for him to watch her lashes flutter open. A devious smile curved her lips. Her left arm curled over his shoulder and nails scratched his back, dragging on his shirt. Her metal covered hand came to his cheek, and those deadly sharp talons skated his jaw, skimmed down his throat and curled lazily right where he knew she would place her mark.

“Mmm,” she hummed, rolling her hips in time with the music, so her body brushed his in an irresistible tease. One which saw his cock hardening damn fast. “Yeah, Stevie.” Her hand drifted down to wrap around his tie. “I wanna make you sweat, _sjelevenn_.”

He already was.

She dropped his tie and let her arm hang. Closed her eyes and tipped her head back. The flashing lights cast colourful shadows across her face. Her jewelry glittered and sparkled and her skin glowed.

She was fucking gorgeous. 

Unable to stop himself, Steve lowered his mouth to her throat, placed a kiss beneath her chin, and traced a path down her flesh with his tongue. Her moan set him on fire, had him dragging her higher, grinding harder, getting even filthier with the circle and thrust of his hips.

His hands flexed on her ass. She had such a nice one he was a bit obsessed with it. A little fuzzy headed, he decided he wanted that ass against him and shoved her back only to spin her around and slam her back into his body.

A high pitched giggle spilled from her lips as she reached back and gripped a handful of his hair. His hands spanned her waist, one high, nearly cupping her breast. The other low splayed out over the apex of her thighs. His middle finger tapped in time to the beat of the music, right above her clit.

She gasped and shuddered, brushed her ass over his groin, and drew his head down to her shoulder. “Naughty,” she teased.

“Baby, you're so gonna get it,” he warned and pressed his raging hard-on into the cleft of her bottom.

“Get what, _sjelevenn_? Tell me what you'll do to me?”

She was pushing all his buttons, clearly, but Steve loved every minute of it. “If you ain't careful, darlin’, I'm gonna find a dark corner and have you up against the wall.”

She whimpered softly. “Hard and fast, Captain?”

“Slow and deep, baby. So fucking slow you'll be strung out and begging to come before I'm done with you. You wanna make me sweat, baby girl? That's how you do it.” He lifted his hand a little higher and squeezed down on the edge of her breast.

She pressed back into him, and Steve spread his feet apart, giving her the down and dirty dance she wanted.

Her face was flushed, her breathing hard. He lifted his hand to surround her throat and tilt her head back on his shoulder. “I bet you're fucking soaked, aren't you, _min vakre skjoldpike_?”

Her lashes lifted enough for him to see her pleasure glazed eyes, and he got it, understanding arriving in a flash. This, right here, was the reason she wanted him to dance with her. Yes, it was sex with your clothes on, but _damn_! It was fun, and filthy, and fucking amazing when she looked at him like she could come with only a little more teasing.

Her heart pounded in his chest, and his began to rush along with it. “How close are you?” he asked softly against her ear, his fingers grazing the front of her dress.

“Steven,” she moaned.

He brushed his nose on her pulse. “You wanna come, doll face?”

She gave a short jerk of her head against his hand.

“You've been such a tease. I dunno if you deserve to come,” he murmured in her ear.

“ _Jeg vil være god. Jeg blir så god, sjelevenn_!” she whimpered.

He didn't need to understand the words to get the gist of what she meant. Steve pressed the heel of his hand into her belly, right over her womb and bit down on the crook of her shoulder. His fingers curled, and he gave her one firm slap against her core, knowing the flashing lights would hide the action as would the thrust and roll of their hips. He tightened the hold he had on her throat and caught the raspy moan trying to escape her lips with his own.

Steve ate at her mouth, tongues tangling in time to their circling hips. Her legs shook, and he caught her against him until she steadied, slowing their dancing as the music changed.

“Mm, baby,” he groaned against her lips. “So fucking sexy.”

She turned into him and wrapped her arms back around his neck. “That was… amazing,” she sighed.

Steve chuckled and blushed a little when he noticed a host of appreciative and stunned eyes on the two of them along with much screaming and hooting aimed their way. Still, with the alcohol humming in his blood, he didn't care and brushed his lips over his best girl’s ear. “Bet you're soaked. Is it running down your thighs, baby? You were so hot against mine.”

She laughed softly and swayed with him. “We could get out of here, and you could find out for yourself.”

“Think I need to toss that garter first. Give me a reason to put my hands up your dress,” he murmured.

“You're so filthy, Steve,” she snickered. “I love it. I love how everyone thinks you're this straight-laced, upright, moral compass - which you are,” she smiled and threaded her fingers through his hair, “But you're also such a dirty boy. You know you get a little Brooklyn in your voice when you're hot and bothered?”

“That right?” he chuckled, having heard it himself.

“It's hot as fuck, Steve. Makes me feel like I'm playing fast and loose with a mobster,” she giggled.

It was at that point Steve wondered how much of the bridal ale _she'd_ drank. Still, he loved it when she got playful and leaned down to brush his nose against hers. “Let's blow this joint, baby girl. A sweet dame like you deserves all my attention.”

She froze in her tracks and gaped at him. “Oh… that's… wow.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled. “C’mon, doll face. I wanna get my hands on your sweet gams and show you a good time. You're such a Sheba, baby. Whenever you look my way, you knock me right on my keister.”

“Now I need a translation,” she whispered her gaze on his mouth.

He pulled her in close and bent to whisper in her ear. “I want to get my hands on your gorgeous legs, sweetheart. Take real good care of my girl because you're as beautiful as the fabled Queen of Sheba, and every time you look at me, you knock me on my ass.”

***

You closed your eyes and sighed, his words sending shivers down your spine, but a new song began to play and set you pressing your body fully to his. “One more dance. One more dance, Stevie. Please?”

He tilted his head but nodded when you skimmed your hands down his chest.

A smirk curled your lips with his agreement. You dropped your hands to his hips and twisted yours back and forth, slowly lowering toward the floor while sliding your hands down his thighs.

As you twitched your way back up, you raked your nails up his thigh while you sang, “Now if we're talking body, you got a perfect one, so put it on me. Swear it won’t take you long if you love me right…”

His muscle clenched, breath caught, and you could smell the sharp rise of arousal which had slowly lessened while you’d been talking.

You’d held back with the last dance, letting him lead, but now you were determined to have a little fun with the husband who’d refused to dance with you. He stood stone still when you rolled your hips into his thigh, you talons pressing into the hard flesh of his abdominals.

“Love can be love. Anything you want I'll give it up. Lips, lips I kiss. Bite me while I taste your fingertips…” you crooned, skimming your fingertips down his arm to traced them down the back of his hand. He reached for you, but you turned out of his arms, dragging your talons around his waist as you pressed your body against his back.

Again you found his hips with your hands danced and twisted your way toward the floor while skimming them over his fantastic ass and down the back of those magnificent thighs. When you rose back up, you made sure to squeeze that perfect peach, swing and roll your pelvis into him as you traced your hands around his waist and up his torso to give his tie a gentle tug.

When the tempo changed, you curled around him, turning as you went until your back was pressed to his front. His hands grabbed your biceps, but you weren’t done with him, not yet, and brushed your ass back and forth over his iron hard cock.

“Baby make 'em bodies, we just use for fun. Bodies. Let's use 'em up 'till every little piece is gone. Let's go, on and on and on…” you sang and lowered your ass to the floor, making sure your back stayed in contact with his front, your body hot as you snaked your way down him, rubbing and grinding every inch of you to every inch of him.

When he jerked you up by your arms, spun you around, and slammed his mouth to yours, it didn’t surprise you in the least. The bruising, punishing kiss accompanied a hungry, possessive growl which saw lust slamming through your body.

He dominated the kiss, his fingers digging into your arms. When you fought back, trying to slip your tongue into his mouth, he was having none of it, forcing it away while lifting you up on your toes.

You finally had to tear your mouth away, breathing like you’d been in battle. Nose to nose with Steve, his harsh panting sent moist air searing over your swollen lips. Maybe smirking wasn’t the best idea, but fuck. That had been fun.

“That was cruel,” he growled, slowly lowering you back to your heels.

A giggle escaped your throat. “Next time just dance with me when I ask you to.”

He kissed you again, this time setting his teeth to your lip and worrying the plump flesh until you whimpered. “I’ll admit, this was fun. I’d still rather have you naked and beneath me when we dance like this though.”

“Just think of this as the prelude to fun to come.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and swayed along with the music. “It’s another kind of foreplay,” you breathed against his mouth. Loud complaining was coming from over your left shoulder, and you grinned wickedly. “Plus, I helped Clint win a hundred bucks.”

Steve shook his head. “What was the bet?”

“That you could hold out against my feminine wiles.”

“Who was stupid enough to bet against that?” he snorted.

“Sam and Scott. Dumbasses,” you snickered.

“Rookie mistake,” he agreed and dropped his head to tuck his nose in against your neck. “Can we get out of here now?”

You brushed your hips into his. “You want five minutes first to calm down?”

“Baby, that ain’t going away anytime soon. Please don’t ever dance like that with Nat and Wanda again. It’s… disconcerting.”

You burst out laughing and teased, “Long as you’re willing to take their place; I won’t have to.”

“Deal,” he agreed readily and sealed it with a kiss.

***

Amongst much laughter, the garter was tossed and caught by none other than Tony, the bouquet thrown and with a deft bat by Nat landed right in Pepper’s arms. They were teased endlessly, but Tony only smirked and kissed Pepper’s cheek, murmuring quietly to her about how happy he was she was home.

The cake was cut and though you both threatened, neither followed through with the smearing of the other’s face. And finally, you were ushered out to a waiting quinjet.

“Kiss!” screamed Sammy and his brother at the same time.

Standing on the ramp to the quinjet, you laughed but complied, turning your face up for Steve to place a short but tender kiss on your lips.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Tony snickered, coming down the ramp behind you. “Autopilot is set, no messing with the controls. We’ll expect you back in four days. Otherwise, we’re coming hunting.”

You turned toward him and hugged Tony, holding tight for a few extra seconds. “Thank you, Tony. For everything.”

He hugged back, his arms just as tight. “You’re worth it, majesty,” he teased. When he pulled away, he gently brushed his fingers against your cheek. “No sex in my pool.”

“There’s a pool?” you beamed.

“Gah! I shouldn’t have said anything,” Tony grumbled and tapped the end of your nose.

He turned to Steve and clapped him on the shoulder. “Behave yourselves but not too much. We’ll try not to have an alien invasion or supervillain attack while you’re getting busy.”

You smacked Tony in the back of the head and made him yelp. “I swear, Tony if you just jinxed us, I will come back here and kick your ass!”

“Never fear, lillesøster,” Loki called out. “I will be here to keep an eye on things.”

He stood with Hemme, the stallion pouting at being left behind again, but you’d bribed him with apples and a bucket of carrots to stay behind.

“Just as long as someone is keeping an eye on you, _ugagn_ ,” you teased.

“Such lack of faith,” he quipped, but his grin was devious. “And after I left you a gift.”

You arched a brow, but it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate. “ _Takk for alt du har gjort,_ Loki,” you said softly, thanking him for everything he’d done.

“ _Alt for deg_ , Sváfa.” He tilted his head, his smile softening.

“Alright, you crazy kids!” Tony threw up his hands and shooed the both of you up the ramp. “Get out of here! Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

There was much waving and cheering, and good-natured catcalling as the two of you entered the back of the jet, and the ramp closed behind you. Though it was on autopilot, Steve still made his way to the front, curious about where in the world Tony was sending you, and you joined him, sliding into the co-pilot position and strapping in before the jet took off.

“So?” you asked once you were level and cruising comfortably away from the compound.

“Not a clue,” Steve grumbled. “He’s got me locked out, and the computer won’t show me anything other than we’re in stealth mode.”

You didn’t think that was a bad idea in case anyone - namely Ross - was monitoring the comings and goings around the compound.

“Well, least we know there’s a pool,” you chuckled, releasing your safety belts.

“And we’re headed South East, out over the ocean…” Steve frowned, pondering your destination.

“We’re going to have at least an hour to kill, maybe even more.” You got to your feet, took the step you needed to come to his side, and sat slowly down in his lap. “Whatever should we do to relieve the boredom… _husband_?”

“Gee, I don’t know, baby,” he chuckled and slipped his hand beneath your dress.

A tingle of awareness had you glancing over your shoulder toward the back of the quinjet. “What’s that?”

Steve turned to look only to laugh. “Seems Loki’s gift has arrived.” He swept you up in his arms and made his way to the back of the jet. “And he left a note.”

He set you on your feet at the foot of the pile of furs which, likely, hid a thick mattress, and stooped to pick up the note.

“Darling, Sváfa. It will take a few hours to arrive at your destination, and as I am well aware of your and the Captain’s need to fornicate like rabbits,” Steve snorted, “I thought it prudent to provide you with a bridal bed, so you do not return with bruises on your- _really, Loki_!” he barked and tossed the card over his shoulder.

You laughed, delighted with his teasing. “He’s so cheeky!”

“He’s a menace,” Steve grumbled, “but a weirdly thoughtful one.”

Smiling, you reached behind you and tugged the tail of the bow tied at your waist to loosen your dress. Crossing your arms over your chest, you drew down first one heavily beaded strap, then the other so they fell toward your elbows. By this point, you had your husband’s full attention, and when you lowered your arms, your dress went with them, falling to pool around your feet and leaving you bare before him.

“Damn,” Steve wheezed, making you chuckle.

You stepped out of your shoes and onto the furs, humming softly at the feeling of softness beneath your feet, before sinking to your knees and sliding to your back, drawing the furs up to brush over your body.

“Maybe you should join me, _sjelevenn_ ,” you teased when he only continued to stare.

Buttons flew when he tore the front of his shirt open and kicked off his shoes, but when he made to wrench the tie from around his neck, you smiled and pointed at it.

“Bring the tie, Stevie. After all, I have plans for that tie.”

“Holy… _shit_.” His voice cracked with excitement.

Giggling softly, you drew your talons down the valley between your breasts as he fell to the fur beside you, tie in hand, but when you turned toward him, he only pulled you in until you were skin to skin, thigh to thigh, and breast to breast.

“I love you, (Y/N). So damn much,” he said softly.

You placed your hand on his cheek and gently traced his features. The high arch of bone. The graceful arch of brow. The slope of his nose, the dip of his cupid’s bow, and his lush lower lip. Each one painting a picture in your mind, keeping his face fresh, so his image never faded in your memory. “I love you, too. I always have, and I always will.”

He rolled with you, bringing you up on his chest. “I want my mark.”

“Now?” you teased. “You don’t want to wait until we get where we’re going?”

“No, baby,” he said quietly and let the tie fall to the furs. He began to slide his fingertips over your back and arms slowly. “Don’t make me wait any longer, _min vakre skjoldpike._ ”

You slipped your gauntlet from your hand and added it to his tie, wanting nothing between you and his skin, and cupped his face as you rose over him, bent down and kissed him tenderly. “ _Alt for deg, sjelevenn_ ,” you whispered. “Anything for you.”

It was a slow build up of gentle touches, quiet moans, and soft sighs. You worshiped the body laid bare beneath you, needing to touch and taste every inch of him. He was yours. Your _sjelevenn_. Your heart. Your lover. Showing him how much he meant to you was a joy and a pleasure.

You followed the thick veins which rose on his arms with a fingertip. Touched the calluses on his hands which had formed over years of physical work. The lines of his ribcage lifted and expanded with every breath, though he flinched when your tender touch hit a ticklish spot. You followed the valleys and dips along the edges of his muscles like a roadmap, tracing them down to the deep ‘v’ along his hips and further, following the long length of his quads until you reached his knees. You skimmed your nails through the hair on his lower legs, admiring the definition of his calves before circling the strong bones of his ankles. 

The master sculptors had nothing on your  _sjelevenn._

You followed the path in reverse until you once again rested stretched out at his side. Hard and heavy, you wrapped your fingers around the part of him you’d purposely avoided, tugging and caressing his thick cock while using your mouth to tease his nipples and place loving kisses over his heart.

“Baby,” he sighed. “You’re killing me.”

“No, Steve. I’m loving you,” you whispered and moved to straddle his thighs.

Emotion weighed down on you like a blanket, comfortable and warm. He pulsed in your hand and jumped when you bent to bring him to your mouth, slick your tongue up the underside of his shaft and place a feather-light kiss to the tip.

The intensity of his gaze never faltered, his eyes almost hot on your skin. You looked up, sensed the flush filling his face and heard the sharp intake of breath when you closed your lips around him.

“Fuck… me,” he groaned, his back arching in pleasure.

You kept the pace slow; your tongue invested and followed the rise and fall of your lips with your hands until he was a writhing, sweating mess. His hands had long since latched onto fistfuls of fur, his hips jerking with every slow lick and suck.

“ _Now_ you’re killing me,” he whined.

You slid him from your mouth with a wet pop. “Should I quit then?”

He gave a frantic shake of his head.

“Then stop bitching, Rogers.”

He chuckled softly and released the furs to hook his hands behind your knees and drag you up his body. “Can’t help it. Not when you're such a cock tease.”

“I assure you, _Captain_. I can get much, much worse,” you snickered and settled your wet, needy core against him.

“God, baby…” he groaned. “Please, _please_ , I need to be in there. Inside that tight pussy of yours.”

“Yeah? You gonna let me work a little Valkyrie magic if I do?” you asked, rocking on him, sliding your wetness up and down his shaft.

“I want it. I want my mark,” he growled, latching onto your hips to grind you down harder on him. He surged up and had you sinking over him, walls stretching, body screaming with pleasure between one breath and the next.

“Oh… Steve,” you sighed and let yourself fall until he was fully sheathed and testing your limits.

“Tell me what to do,” he begged. “Please, baby.”

The desperate way he said it had you frowning a little. “It means that much to you?”

He was quiet for a few long seconds before a soft, “Yeah, it does,” filled the silence.

Tears threatened with the swelling of your heart, but you held them back and curled your hand around the side of his throat. Gently stroking his jaw with your thumb, you smiled. “Then who am I to deny you, _sjelevenn_?”

You began to move even as you began to whisper, words so old and a language so ancient the translation was lost to time. The skin beneath your palm warmed and his heart raced, the magic driving him closer to release with every quiet syllable uttered from your lips.

It was hard to concentrate past the slick glide of his heavy shaft through your walls. The pleasure all the more intense while working this magic. Two halves of the same soul tied together for eternity, suddenly all the closer with this bit of binding magic. You could feel it like tiny threads pulling you even closer, drawing the edges together until they brushed against one another in a silky soft kiss. Nothing and no one would be able to break that bond, one forged in the fire of deepest love and trust. Nothing except death and even then the threads would only stretch, waiting for the time when the souls were reborn and drawn together again in your next life.

The hands at your hips flexed and dug a little deeper, and pulled you down all the harder as the magic slowly peaked, the fire in your veins making you moan.

“Steven,” you gasped, close to completing the ritual. “Do you love me?”

“With everything I am,” he sighed.

“Then let the mark of the Valkyrie shout that love from the highest of heights,” you declared and felt the magic surge, send the strongest whips of pleasure pounding through your veins with every beat of your heart and sear the edges of your shared soul together in white-hot heat, and the binding might of Valkyrie magic. 

A fist clamped around your womb, grabbed hold of it and squeezed so tightly you screamed when the ecstasy sent you tumbling into bliss

Steve roared out a sound far closer to a battle cry than a cry of pleasure before the heat of his release seemed never-ending, wave after wave setting you reeling at the continued euphoria you were feeling.

When every muscle which had strained tight finally relaxed, you groaned a soft, “Steve,” and collapsed on his chest, wrung out and spent.

“That was…” He shook his head slowly, clearly in awe.

“Cat got your tongue, _sjelevenn_?” you asked, pushing up enough to trace your fingers down his throat. The flesh was smooth still, but where the mark had appeared was raised just enough for you to feel the sweep of wings and rune. You wished you could see it, knowing it would be so damn sexy on him, but you were doomed to having to use your imagination and the sensitive pads of your fingers to create the image in your mind.

“You take my breath away, (Y/N),” Steve murmured, kissing your cheek.

He cuddled you close and just let you relax until you were ready to move again. But you drifted, content and assured with the strength of your relationship, dozing a little and thought, if this was how the rest of your honeymoon went, it was going to be a fantastic four days.

A smirk twitched up your lips when you tangled your fingers with Steve’s and gently played with his ring. “ _Jeg elsker deg,_ Stevie. With my whole heart.”

“Love you too, baby,” he murmured and kissed the top of your head as he pulled a thick fur over you both.

Tired, you closed your eyes and listened to his heart beat beneath your ear. Your last thought before you fell asleep? You were so talking Steve into having sex in Tony’s pool.

- ** _Thus ends Rise Up. Join me for the final installment of the Captain and the Valkyrie series, Warrior Daughter._**


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